


Buy it, Use it, Break it, Fix it

by Hammertimexx (orphan_account)



Category: Daft Punk, Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Angst, Basically the Striders are Daft Punk, Daft Punk AU, Daft Punk!Stuck, F/F, Fluff, Humanstuck, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 147,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Hammertimexx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Helmets?" </p><p>Dave Strider was many things; Talented? Yes. Ironic beyond all compare? No shit. Sexier than Brad Pitt in Fight Club? Obviously. Maker of some of the finest damn music this side of Venus? Hell to the fucking yes. </p><p>A wannabe robot with a gold helmet? </p><p>Not a chance in hell. </p><p> </p><p>(Written by: Hammer and Time)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Da Funk

**Author's Note:**

> ((Hello friends, Hammer here! I just finished my last fic and this idea came to mind and just really wouldn't leave, so of course I have to post it like the idiot I am. Daft Punk has to be my favorite band in history, and the only thing that's came to mind the past ten billion times I've listened to Technologic is; What if instead of Thomas and Guy-Man, it was Dirk and Dave? It seemed like a good enough start, so I hope you all enjoy ^^))  
> ((Ps, disclaimer, do not own the awesome robots, nor Homestuck, yada yada yada))

"Helmets?" 

Dave Strider was many things; Talented? Yes. Ironic beyond all compare? No shit. Sexier than Brad Pitt in Fight Club? Obviously. Maker of some of the finest damn music this side of Venus? Hell to the fucking yes. 

A wannabe robot with a gold helmet? 

Not a chance in hell. 

-

Dave Strider was, in fact, the youngest of a trio of siblings. The oldest of this trio, Bro, was the caretaker and/or guardian, the one who'd managed to land them a top floor apartment in the middle of Houston on a minimum wage budget and two kids in his care at the age of sixteen, after their parents had ditched. The place they'd managed to get actually had five rooms, and was pretty nice; apparently some dude had died there so it had a lower price, but who really cared? Bro was ten years older than Dave, and was the best basis of a father figure that Dave or Dirk would ever receive. But both were okay with that. 

He was a good guy; stern, but willing to teach a few lessons that would help out in the real world. You know, the usual things, such as killer rapping, how long it took Velveeta to cook in the microwave, how to sew and sword fighting. Quality dude. Soon enough Bro lost the minimum wage gig and started up his own business, something dealing with a lot of colorful felt and a fucking mountain of batteries. Dave learned at a young age not to ask questions about that; Just try to ignore the dead gaze of the thousands of smuppets that passed through the apartment, and he'd be unscarred enough to forge out a good life. 

The next was Dirk, Dave's older bro by a total of 4 years. He was like a carbon copy of Bro, minus the orange baseball cap that usually resided on Bro's head. They both had hair that came to a sharp point (a lot of fucking gel) and shades to match. Not to mention the orange eyes. Well, that was a lie; Bro's were a bit more golden than orange, but the two of them were still creepily similar none the less. That and Dirk was the only one out of the three of them that had freckles. 

Dirk was heavy into the robotics division of life, causing him to deconstruct their entire fridge at the age of ten and breaking it, leaving it to become the new housing unit for the the tons of shitty swords they had lying around. He got better, though. Good enough to the point that they made a room for it in the house, allowing him to spend most of his time there and create some admittingly cool shit. Dave remembered some robotic rabbit that he ended up making that could walk around, along with this short, twitchy robot that could actually spit out raps on a dime. It still had a few ticks to work out, but Dirk was proud of him. He was dubbed as Squarewave, but it only took about three months before all the Striders could beat him in a rap off. 

Then lastly, there was Dave. Same white blonde hair as his brothers, same pale as hell skin, and same cool act. Although Dave was different in some aspects: He had more of a tendency to try and excel at his area of expertise. Bro sold smuppets to pay the bills, but it wasn't what he wanted to do with his life fully. And Dirk? He would never produce something as as serious endeavor. It was more just for fun, build something then deconstruct it to use its parts in something else. Kind of a never ending circle, if you think about it that way. 

Dave, on the other hand, wanted his music to be heard. He wanted people to hear it, love it, and more than anything he wanted it to be recognized. So he went to work. 

Dirk was a big help in that area; Dave could bring home broken sound boards or equipment that he'd gotten for cheap from thrift shops, or free from the garbage behind the electronic stores and drop them off in Dirk's room with a pizza. They'd be repaired and look better than new within the next few days, already set up in the music room, connected to everything else along with Dave's laptop. 

That poor processor probably was about ready to bust by the time Dave started producing actual music. Before then he usually just stuck with mixing. He mixed for fun still, of course, seeing as he loved it. It was easier, in a way, even if it was a hard skill in the first place. But producing music with a fuckton of knobs? Way harder. this led to:

Seven rage induced strifes, one broken soundboard (This caused another strife that ended with Dirk punching Dave in his face because, "I just fixed that for you, asshole."), two shitty swords now sticking out of the wall of his makeshift studio, and three drunken mixing sessions. 

One painstaking month later, and he'd finally had enough sound samples to compile a song that didn't sound like total crap. Just the opposite, actually. It was good enough that upon requesting his brothers opinion (Bro was out of town on 'business'), Dirk gave him a pat on the back and a nod. That was big shit coming from him, but Dave played it cool. 

Then Dirk told him to adjust the base and make the beat less prominent, causing Dave to offer a skeptical eyebrow. "You're fucking kidding right? Lessen the main beat anymore and it'll get lost to the background." 

"Just trust me, alright? It'll make it easier to hear everything else in the piece and not just the same thumping noise." 

"Well what's wrong with the bass?" 

"It's too overpowering," Dirk pointed out, wiping his grease stained hands on a dirty rag, "It'll blow out headphones and speakers in an instant before the real sound even hits. Cut it back." 

Dave didn't believe it for a fucking second. This song was perfect as it was, but just to prove his bro wrong, Dave went back to processing it, carefully going through and lowering the over all bass while only lowering the main drum beat in places that it peaked. Pressing play and sending it through his speakers instead of the headphones draped around his neck, he crossed his arms, looking at Dirk with a condescending expression before the sound even came out. 

When it did, he was faced with a problem, turning to look at his laptop with a furrowed brow. 

"It works," Dave said, honestly sounding surprised as he slipped off his headphones. Going back to his laptop and plugging them in, he restarted the song, deciding to work with his Alesis and lower the bass even further. Slipping them back on, he was further surprised that the song sounded far crisper. 

"I wasn't trying to get a rise out of you or something Dave, I was being honest. Isn't that why you showed it to me?" Dirk asked, now getting a smug look as he crossed his arm over his chest to mock Dave's previous stance. The nineteen year-old didn't pay attention to him, and continued to tweak the piece for another few hours. When he was finished for a second time, he called Dirk back in. This time, the nod he got was absolute, no adjustments needed. 

"So?" Dirk asked, sitting down in one of the chairs in the far left corner of the room, "What are you gonna do with it?" 

"Do with it?" Dave asked, looking around at his equipment for a moment before frowning. "Make it into a track." 

"You're going to build an entire album around this single song? How do you even know that it's something that people would like?" Dirk questioned, resting his right ankle on his left knee to cross his legs comfortably. 

"I like it," Dave challenged. 

"That doesn't mean other people will. You're going to have to get a better opinion than your older brother." 

Walking over and sitting on the floor in front of him, he ticked his jaw to the left in thought. "So what, post it online or something?" 

"Not necessarily," Dirk hummed, scratching at the back of his head, "Unless you're popular on the internet in some way, shape or form already, it's going to be difficult to get coverage on it. You could do it as well, but I really think you should send it into one of the local radio stations." 

"You're joking, right? You really think the people of fucking Texas are going to like this?" 

"You just have to pick the right station. Don't send it into something like a country station or some shit, send it into one that plays mostly contemporary. It'll have a bigger fanbase that way that's hit, and if people like it it'll be requested. It's a good way to get feedback."

Dave waited a few days to send it in. Not out of nerves, mind you, but he wanted to get Bro's opinion as well. Even if his siblings were total douchebags who usually had some unknown motive to make his life difficult, their thoughts were important. And just like clockwork, Bro recommended the exact same thing that Dirk did. If there wasn't such an age gap Dave could have sworn the pair of them were twins or something. So, eventually he managed to get it on a CD and mail it in to the Houston radio station KPTY 104.9. They'd ended up naming it 'Da Funk' by Bro's 4 AM suggestion. He'd thought he may get a letter back saying 'Thanks for the killer beat but we're assholes and don't appreciate when gold is handed to us on a silver platter'. He was expecting no response, after the fourth day. 

Instead, he was greeted to the sound of it playing on the radio as he drove to get a pizza on the fifth day of no response, nearly crashing the god damned car. 

All in all? It had been a hit. It began to bleed into other radio stations, and soon enough Dave's own fucking song was playing all over Texas. Two weeks later, 104.9 contacted the Strider household, AKA Dirk picked up Dave's phone and answered it only to be met with an overly enthusiastic DJ who was wondering if they had any more of their music that they'd be willing to let the station play. The exchange had been a little terse, Dirk admitted later, he hadn't really actually even talked to the guy. Just gave a sort of hum of agreement before hanging up. 

Who was Dave to deny the fans? 

Since he'd heard his first song on the radio, he'd been working on a second one, only this time one with lyrics. Sure, it had minimal dialog, just the same phrase over and over and over. He tried to distort his voice the best he could. He wasn't usually so modest, but he didn't want someone to call him out on any of this yet. It was actually pretty cool, to be unknown. Not to mention ironic as piss seeing as some day he'd want the world to know that it was his music.

Dirk was listening through it for the forth time in two days since the call, scrawling down notes of what he thought should be adjusted before Dave realized something. He needed a name to label these songs with, besides their titles. There had to be a name for the group.

But that was for a later date.

Again, Dirk tweaked it, this time a little more heavily and disguising Dave's voice far better. While Dave was readjusting a fifth time, Dirk continued to listen in, even practicing with one of the soundboards out of boredom and interest in their design. 

"Seven minutes, are you sure you want it to be that long?" Dirk questioned as Dave burned it on a hard copy. 

"It's the same thing over and over, Dirk, if they want to cut it for radio they can. I'm just focusing on practice," He said, ejecting the disk and waving it lightly.

A week after the call, Dave presented the finished song to Bro, both him and Dirk silently wringing their hands behind their backs as they kept relaxed expressions.

Surprisingly, he dug it.

It was sent in, and it was on the radio within three days, playing during rush hour. 

"So are you guys in a band then?" Bro asked one evening, taking a drink of beer as he propped his feet up on the couch, his arms framing it by one trailing down the arm rest as the other laid along the back. 

"A band?" Dirk questioned, his nose crinkling slightly as he gave a half-hearted shrug from the chair he was sitting in, "The whole music thing is not really my area."

Dave drank his apple juice, tapping his thumb in thought as he leaned against the wall, "But you're not bad at editing my shit. And you know your basic way around a soundboard. We could be in a band." 

"Not to mention that you can practically hear the fucking robot aspect in that song," Bro pointed out, "Seriously, I'm half way positive Squarewave was the one singing in that, not Dave." 

"The goal wasn't to make it sound robotic," Dirk scoffed, "The goal was to make it sound like the person singing wasn't Dave." 

"Then good job, gold star, it doesn't sound anything like him. It sounds like a robot," Bro countered as he took another sip of his beer. Lil Cal rested on the couch next to him, and offered up his silent agreement with Bro.

"Dirk, I've got an idea for your next project; a robot to produce my music for me. I can order it around and it'll do the work for me, it'll be great." Dave waggled his eyebrows. 

"A robot making music? Isn't that kind of a contradiction in terms, robotic music?" Dirk questioned. 

"Oxymoron," Bro clarified, "But it's kind of cool to think about. Some kick ass robot making music. Not that they really could, I mean robots aren't supposed to be able to create that kind of shit, but still." 

Dave paused then, setting down his drink as he frowned a little. "Actually," He said, raising an eyebrow, "That's a good idea." 

"I'm not building you a robot to help with your fucking songs," Dirk deadpanned, but Dave brushed him off. 

"No, I mean, I wanna keep this whole thing on the DL, that's kind of perfect. It'll be like the Gorillaz or Studio Killers; It's a band that doesn't actually exist." 

"Not following. What's special about this?" Bro asked. 

"Gorillaz and Studio Killers made up their members. Their actual members created characters to cover for them, with Gorillaz it was R-2, Noodle, Russ and Murdock and Studio Killers it was Cherry, Goldie Foxx, Dyna Mink and Bipolar Bear." 

"You listen to weird shit dude." 

"Shut up. You get what I mean though? I could start some alias for this and the character could be some robot," Dave said, looking mildly amused at the idea. 

"Make two," Bro replied, looking between the two of them, "One for you, one for Dirk. No one wants just a single person in a band, you know," the oldest frowned in thought, "Two robots making music." 

"I think one could cover it, still. Tag team it?" Dave asked, looking over at Dirk who was obviously not listening in the slightest. He was silent for a total of thirty five seconds, causing both of his brothers to look at him with blank expressions. 

"I have an idea," Was the response that Dave got, Dirk getting off the floor from where he'd been sitting and making his way to the robotics room without a second word. 

Of course, that led to where Dave was now, staring at two helmets and frowning.

-

"Fuck yeah helmets. Dude, are you seeing these?" The older of the two took off his pointed shades, his white blonde hair disappearing under a mass of chrome and black as Dirk slipped on his helmet. It was sliver, with a small open bar for a mouth and something that was really familiar; what appeared to be an LED screen pair of pointed anime shades as the eyes. The sides bumped out a little bit, which caused Dirk to adjust them repeatedly before finally relaxing.

Dave had a moment to wonder how the fuck his brother was even breathing before Dirk coughed, a weird, terse sound coming out of some unseen speaker. His hands were still on his Alesis, waiting for Dirk to be finished with his little show so he could go back to work. It was then that he leaned on the table, tipping his head from side to side as if to test the movement. "Wait a sec," Dirk ordered, his voice sounding far more mechanical than before and causing Dave to roll his eyes behind his own, unpointed shades. Dirks hands raised to the sides and back of his helmet, deft fingers dancing over the back before he gave a small, "Aha!", the eyes lighting up fully. Both sides got small exclamation points, flashing twice. "Fucking cool, right?" 

"You put your shades in a helmet," Dave questioned with a somber expression, examining his brothers face for a minute. The exclamation points disappeared after a moment, leaving two black panels to stare Dave. The contest that ensued was a thing of beauty, the two of them silent with Dave just turning his head to give him a small amount of attention and Dirk putting his hands on his hips, tapping his foot ridiculously.

Dirk looked almost intimidating; grease stained hands, black wife beater and a dead, empty stare. So, Dave was the one who lost the small contest, breaking the silence. "That's cool as fuck," Dave admonished, which earned a thumbs up from the helmets maker as the helmet regained its exclamation points. 

Dirk had been trapped in his robotics room for five days, and there were actually a few snippets that Dave had needed his bro to listen to but couldn't get to him. Apparently this was what he'd been doing. He'd came strutting into the music room with a dumb smirk on his face, holding what looked like two disembodied heads of two really chill, well, robots. 

Dave could only be thankful that they didn't look like Squarewave. 

He didn't realize that he was looking at his brother so critically until Dirk shifted. Noticing that the exclamation points had changed into question marks as Dirk tipped his head, Dave decided to turn fully away from the sound board that he'd been fiddling with, crossing his arms as he looked at his brother. "How are you even doing that?" He asked, which caused a synthesized laugh to pour loudly from the helmet. Maybe it was the open bar shape where the mouth would be. But shouldn't that be where Dirk was getting breath? Brushing it off, he let Dirk speak. 

"Okay so get this. They had these cat ears online that put this little bar to your head and soon enough the ears respond to what you're hearing and feeling. Like they swivel and shit, actually pretty sweet because they connect with your brain waves and act accordingly. I got two pairs and managed to pull out the sensory aspect, so now it can connect to a brain wave signalling confusion, surprise, and a bunch of other shit. I just managed to redirect the reactions to light up the screen in different ways, using the same patterns that the ears did with shifting and flattening themselves. Yours is better than mine, but yours is also kinda harder to talk in." It hardly even sounded like Dirk at that point. It sounded like Microsoft Sam had a suave ass cousin or something. 

"You ripped up cool robo cat ears for this?" Dave tisked his tongue, sighing as he tried to look at the other helmet which was placed on the table behind Dirk. Alright maybe these helmets were cooler than he thought. "So what's mine like? Don't I get a presentation or something?" 

Dirk turned and plucked the helmet up, offering it to his bro dramatically and earning a swat to the back of the helmet as he snatched it up. Unlike Dirks, the thing hardly had a face. It was rounded and smooth, the sides extended just slightly. The smooth face was a singular LED screen, the rest being gold, but upon closer inspection, he pointed to two small strips on either outer edge of the screen. "What the fuck are these?" He asked, and metallic laughter filled the air. 

"Just put it on, I need to see if it fits," He ordered, and with that Dave slipped off his own shades, pulling the helmet over his head. At first, the world was seemingly dark.

"Fuck," He said, the word coming out muffled as he tried to pull it off. It didn't seem to be working very well, and he didn't want some malfunctioning chuck of metal wrapped around his face. His hands grabbed at the sides and both of them were hit simultaneously, causing Dave to punch his bro's shoulder as Dirks hands moved over the back of his helmet. After a second, there was as small clicking sound and the world lit up, causing Dave to wince and blink repeatedly as he tried to force his eyes to adjust. There must have been lighting placed directly under the screen, because he could now see out of it clearly. It had the same tinting as his shades, and he began to wonder how he was breathing when a large question mark went over his screen, causing another mechanical chuckle. 

"How you holding up?" He asked, and Dave shifted his head, finding the helmet to be just as heavy as he thought it would be. 

"It's weighted, that's for damn sure," He said, and Dirk hadn't been kidding; his voice sounded unfinished, a bit like a broken record. Upon noticing this and getting annoyed, his screen flashed a single red x. 

"I'll fix your voice later, asshole, but what do you think otherwise? You have built in headphones," He said, digging around for a moment to find a double sided auxiliary chord. When he finally did, he plugged one end into the very back of Dave's helmet while the other went straight into the phone he had in his hand, which was an ironic magenta. He flicked through his choices for a minute before starting up their first song, Da Funk. 

Sound seemed to be pouring from every direction. Dave was hearing components of his own music that he never even fucking noticed, and he had no idea how he could miss it. As he listened, he heard empty spaces that needed to be filled, beats that needed to be cut and sewn together and a song that could be improved. Again, the red X flashed, and the sound disappeared. 

"Bad quality?" Dirk questioned, unplugging it. 

"The song, yes. These headphones are like having my ears caressed by the lotioned and soft hands of every spoiled god in every mythology." Dave shifted his head forward, a large exclamation point going over his screen as the weighted metal nearly tipped him off balance. "How heavy are these things?" 

"Eh, never weight it. Probably around ten pounds, not too bad." 

"Yeah, not to bad, lets just put the weight of a fucking newborn on our fragile as shit necks, that sounds like a good idea." Rolling his eyes as his screen went black, Dave pulled in a deep breath. "How am I breathing so well? Shouldn't it be constricted?" 

"You have vents where the corners of your mouth are. They're pulling in air directly around you." He leaned over, his hands going to the sides of Dave's helmet right on the bottom ridge and pressing his hands against it. The airflow cut off in an instant, causing a large exclamation point to flash over Dave's screen as he accidentally sucked in and exhaled his last breath. Near immediately, Dirk shoved him away, sucking in another deep breath. 

"Alright you didn't have to give an example there Doctor Jekyll," Dave said, turning his head to test the mobility as he pulled in another lungful of air. 

"I can tell already that you're gonna be the crabby robot," Dirk sighed. Dave flipped him off, of course, but soon enough gave a small nod. 

Dave hated to admit it, but. . . He really liked the helmet. It was cool as shit, he could do things with his face, and he felt like Tony Stark in the Iron Man suit. Damn, if only he had a JARVIS. But eh, beggars can't be choosers. "When are we ever even gonna use these helmets?" He asked, and Dirk just shrugged.

"Who knows? Point is we have them and they're pretty fucking bad ass." Dave could practically feel the smirk that his brother was wearing as he walked over to his Roland, glancing back at Dirk.

"Well, as cool as they are, I still have shit to show you." 

"Fine, give me the helmet and I'll go put it away," Dirk said, extending a hand. The pause that ensued made another question mark go over Dirk's helmet. 

"I'm only wearing it for the headphones," He said, raising a hand in his defense as the words Dirk nodded once. Damn it he could feel how smug Dirk was from here. He stuck his tongue out and vaguely wondered if he was able to be seen at all through the screen."Be right back." Going out of the room and to the bathroom, he flicked on the light, looking back at the black screen that faced him with rainbow lining on the two outer edges. "Dirk, really, with the fucking rainbow?" 

All that was heard was more mechanic laughter. 

-

"And you're back with English on the English Channel, 104.9 KPTY," The voice said, using a chipper tone. It was the same person who'd called from the station and asked for another song, this British dude who used words that Dirk was positive he made up half the time. He just happened to be playing while Dirk was on his way to get a few new tools. Unfortunately, while the helmets were cool and all, he'd wasted a metric fuck ton of wiring just trying to get the basic components down. "Next we'll be playing Da Funk, the greatest new hit we have to offer, so stick around to hear some more great tunes. Don't forget to call in a request if you have one, 555-4130, and stay tuned." 

The corner of Dirk's mouth ticked upwards once, but that was the only indicator was willing to give. This English kid always laid on compliments about their music like whip cream on ice cream. The more that Dirk thought about it, the more he realized that they wouldn't be even this far with the whole music making process without this dude. He gave them a chance. 

An idea struck, and sitting in lunch time traffic, he picked up his phone, dialing the station number. 

Twelve times of retrying after getting a busy signal, and finally he was greeted with the same voice on his radio. "Hello! You're talking to English, what can I help you with?" 

"That song you keep playing, Da Funk?" Dirk questioned idly, relaxing back in his seat as he inched forward in traffic. 

"It's already playing right now, mate, you don't need to request it," The DJ chuckled .

"No, not requesting. What's the bands name, the one who made it?" He asked. He couldn't help but smirk a little at the silence that ensued. 

"The artist never actually told me," He said, sounding a little down trodden at that.

"Well then, help me make one," Dirk offered, and he earned a small scoff in reply. 

"What, two chaps just making a name for a band without their permission? Don't be daft, it's a bit rude don't you think?" 

"Daft," Dirk repeated back, trying the weight of the word on his tongue. "Daft is a good start." 

"Listen, I have several other callers to talk to," English explained politely, "But I'm glad you're taking interest in their music. They're a personal favorite of mine, and their newest song is called Around the World, if you're interested in listening to it. I could even play it for you." 

"You don't have to, I know what it sounds like. I helped make it," Dirk clarified.

"You helped make it?" English asked incredulously. Even through the phone Dirk could just imagine this dude looking completely unamused . 

It kinda made it funnier. 

"Yup. We just need a name now, I thought it would be nice to ask you seeing as you kinda helped with all of this." 

Now the DJ actually laughed, "What kind of punk do you take me for? You really expect me to believe that you're the producer of two of the highest charted songs in Texas and you called me to shoot the breeze?" 

"Punk. Daft Punk." Dirk frowned and nodded, "I can dig that. Daft Punk. Your name calling is really helpful man, thanks." 

"Excuse me?" 

"Look man, thanks for your help, really enlightening. The name sounds a bit old school, but I think we can work with it. You called us last time you needed a new song, so don't feel afraid to drop a line." 

"But- Wait, hey-!"

"Alright, fine, dude, no need to be so pushy. We'll send in the next song with in a few weeks," Dirk offered up with a cheeky grin, hearing this guy get more and more flustered.

"Excuse me!" He said, "How did you know I called them?" 

"You called me, I think I remember it pretty clearly."

"You're actually the artist?" Poor English sounded completely thunderstruck. 

So, just to fuck with him, Dirk clicked his tongue once. "Expect another track in the mail soon. Later bro, and again, really, thanks for the help."

"Hey, w-!" Dirk hung up the phone, shooting off the name idea to Dave via text. The reply just said, 'sounds chill bro', and Dirk turned his eyes back to traffic, the road now beginning to allow room for movement. Maybe they needed to thank this English dude at some point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to. Thanks for reading!))


	2. Around The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((By the way, before any more music gets mentioned, I will be going in order to the dates that Daft Punk has released their songs, but it won't be fully inclusive. For example, I won't list off every song in the Homework album before I allow myself to move onto the Discovery album yada yada yada. Just thought I'd say ^^))

"Jake!" Jane hissed, covering the receiver of the phone that was still pressed to her ear, "A little help?" 

"With what? You're setting up a party, it's not that difficult," Jake reminded, giving a small smile as he chose the next song to play. The station was nearing closing time, and the smile he wore was relaxed as he flicked idly through the songs they had uploaded to one of the stations computers. 

"With Roxy's mom!" Jane clarified, giving a slightly scared look before she faked a smile. "No, Mrs. Lalonde, I'm totally with you on that! But are you sure you want the party to be this extensive?" 

From her end in New York, a slightly tipsy laugh spilled from the lips of Roxy's mother, "Why of course dear! It's my daughters twenty third birthday, I want it to be memorable." 

"But twenty third isn't usually a big one to celebrate. Those are eighteen, or twenty one, or thirty." 

"Exactly! She should feel as special as ever," She said, "Now are there any places that she really adores in Houston?" 

"Well," Jane hummed, trying to think.

Jane Crocker was the best friend/roommate of the one and only Roxy Lalonde, a blonde bubbly happy go lucky workaholic. When they first met their freshman year of college, Jane had been positive that Roxy was going to be a huge pain. She would once in a while sneak wine in their dorm just to 'wind down' after a harsh load of classes, plus she seemed to have more energy than the Energizer Bunny. She kept her side of the dorm room an 'organized' mess, and the music she played was far more harsh than what Jane would usually enjoy. She wasn't afraid to call people out on something, while Jane usually was more reserved, and polite. 

They should have actually hated each other, looking back on it.

And yet. Despite this and despite Jane's usual wish to have everything proper and clean cut, Roxy managed to weasel her way into Jane's group of immediate friends. Eventually Jane made Roxy kick the wine to the curb, and Roxy made Jane loosen up a bit. They were practically inseparable by their second year, even joining each other for the holidays at different points. After the pair of them graduated from Texas State, Roxy was offered an internship at a record company located in Houston. So, of course, she begged Jane to move with her. 

They ended up moving in together, both of them working and Jane trying to save up most of her funds. It was a good combination. But lately Roxy's current profession and internship had caused her to come home to the apartment they shared and collapse on the couch to pass out. Only to crawl into Jane's bed later that night because her bed was 'unmade and a lot less comfy plus Jaaaaaane you're waaaaaaarm'. 

They both had come from opposite ends of the US, Jane from Washington and Roxy from New York. Jane was lucky, at least; her cousin, Jake, was currently running one of the radio stations right next to where their apartment was, so she wasn't completely alone in the huge city. Now that she'd graduated, Jane had gotten a temp job at the same station to save up, hoping to open her own bakery in the future. 

The three of them were rather good friends before long. Roxy and Jane would always call in requests on their days off, forcing Jake to play everything they chose so they could relax at home with smug smiles and a lot of laughing. 

The only place that Jane could really think that Roxy would like, the only place that they'd really even relaxed for quite a while was. . . well. . .

"There's a club in downtown Houston that she really loves, called Deuces. It's mostly just a music club, but I know she likes it," Jane suggested, "But I'm not sure they'd just let you throw a party there." 

"I'll rent it out," Mrs. Lalonde assured, making Jane go a little wide eyed behind her red rimmed glasses. 

"That would be extremely expensive," She said lightly, looking at Jake with almost a disbelieving look at Jake raised both of his eyebrows in a silent question as to what was being decided.

"Money is no object, not for either of my daughters," She promised, and after meeting her last Christmas, Jane could practically imagine her flicking a hand idly with an empty martini glass in hand. "I'll call and make a reservation to have it booked, but there are still so many things needed. We need catering, not to mention music, decorations, a guest list. . . " 

"We'll take care of it!" Jane offered, wincing internally. Her father had always taught her and her younger brother that they should try to assist in any way possible, and from the corner of her eye she saw Jake shake his head dramatically as he waved his arms in a very obvious 'no'.

"Splendid! You know what she likes, you must because she talks about you constantly. Of course you'll be able to help!" Mrs. Lalonde could be heard smiling through the phone, "Now grab a notepad, darling, you'll need a few numbers from me." 

Of course Jane obliged, her skirt skittering around her calves as she moved around to pluck up a notepad and pen from her own desk next door. She came back in and sat down, crossing one leg over the other before giving the go ahead and getting two different, equally long numbers. By the time her friends mother had finished listing them off, Jane questioned what they were. 

"Both of those are credit card numbers, card one with with the pin 7673 and card two with the pin 7699. Hold nothing back, spend what you need and don't forget, this is a surprise." 

Jane could only blink. "Of course," She promised, giving a smile as Mrs. Lalonde said her goodbyes before thanking her and hanging up. 

"Why would you offer to take care of everything?!" Jake asked the moment she was off the phone, having already said goodnight to his listeners and switched it to the nighttime track. He was leaning back in his chair, looking at his cousin as if she'd grown a second head. "Between me and you that's going to be a hell of a difficult time! Two people can't do all of that in three weeks!"

"I don't know!" She squeaked, sitting down in one of the chairs by the door. Her cyan fingernails plucked at the material covering her leg nervously, "I just wanted to be polite, I didn't mean it. It's reflex, Dad taught me to be nice to my elders and Mrs. Lalonde is such a nice lady, I know that she'd be doing it all by herself." 

"Well now we're doing all by ourselves," Jake pointed out, and Jane looked guilty.

"We?" She asked.

Jake sighed, his head dropping to his hands, "Yes, we. That's what family does. Of course I'll help, but that doesn't change the fact that this is a lot of work for two people! We have to book the club, and get music, get catering, get decor, get gifts, and make sure that she gets that day off of work without giving anything away. That's a lot of bloody work." 

"Well, here, lets get a few things sorted right now. I can make the cake and food, and gifts I already have a few ideas. I know someone who could be really great with decorations, and I'm sure that I can talk to her boss. He's a really understanding guy," She said. "Plus, you're a DJ! Couldn't you just play music?" 

"Don't be silly, I'm just a radio DJ. I play songs in order, nothing more," He said, frowning, "Plus I would have to have a lot of equipment to even play music. Also I'm not sure that Roxy would be sated with just a mixed tape playing from the speakers they have there already, unfortunately. She really does love live entertainment."

"Well then that will be something that we just need to do. We'll have to rent out musicians or a DJ," Jane said, her brow furrowing as she ran a hand through her jet black hair. "There has to be a few good ones in Houston, and we'll just have to find the best. With how much she's been working, her mom has a point; this should be fun and memorable." Silence. Jane frowned, expecting her cousin to speak, but looking up she noticed that he actually seemed to be thinking. "What?" 

"You guys call in songs often," Jake said, looking unsure, "So I know what kind of music she likes. I think I have an idea." 

 

\- 

 

Dave was just taking a break. He and Dirk had been working non-stop for the past two weeks, and he wanted to stab something in the face. Two new songs. Two new really exhausting songs that were totally kick ass and yet Dave just needed to be away from something that wasn't sound boards and music for a minute. Dirk had mailed both of them off that morning, whoopty fucking doo. Everything for quite a while now had been music. Just music. 

Sitting at his computer, he began another shitty Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff sketch, something he hadn't done for nearly a year and found it to be relaxing as hell.

Doing nothing felt so good. 

Until his phone rang again, forcing him to get up and grab it from the living room. 

His eyes narrowed for a second before he answered, not speaking even a word as he waited for the person on the other line to speak. "Uh," They started, and Dave could hear them titter nervously, "Hello! You told me to call if I needed something." The accent gave the mystery caller away immediately.

Dave just sighed, his head dropping a little was he walked over to Dirk's room, opening the door and throwing the phone at him. "If you wanna talk to him, give him your number and stop fucking around with people on my phone," He said, Dirk hardly even lifting his head as he managed to catch the phone. 

Bringing it to his ear and holding it in place with his shoulder, he had his tongue between his teeth in thought as he fiddled with Squarewave's knee joint. "Hello?" He asked, only lifting his head away from his shoulder to look around for the WD-40. 

"You said to call if I needed anything?" The British voice asked, and Dirk had to hold a line of wiring between his teeth to grab both the can of grease and a pair of pliers.

"That was weeks ago, and from a completely different phone. What could you want?" He questioned, his speaking a bit terse as he kept the wire away from his tongue. If this English dude had wanted him to call back, he should have just called Dirk's phone back. Maybe the station didn't have caller ID or some shit, who knew? 

This kid surprised him, however, by asking, "How does a job sound?" 

Dirk rolled his eyes behind his shades as he set down the pliers and spit out the wire, picking the phone up to put it to his ear. "Weren't you just doubting that I had any connection with music? Now you're asking me to play for you?" He asked, frowning. 

"Well this number is the number that I've contacted before when I asked if you had more material, so it must be you," Was the reply, "Now are you interested in a job?" 

"What kind of a job?" 

"A club. Private party." 

"Location?"

"Deuces, downtown."

"How many people?" 

"A hundred, maybe more." 

"Requirements?" 

"Play a few tracks, maybe something new? Whenever you want a break, have equipment for you to have prerecorded music play." 

"When?" 

"Three weeks from now, December fourth."

"What time do we have to be there?" 

"Set up would be around five, playing would actually happen around seven."

Dirk hummed. "Pay?" 

"Twenty five hundred dollars."

Fuck. That was a lot of cash. "Trying to bribe me, English?" 

"Only if it means you'll accept. . . What do I call you?" 

This caused Dirk to pause. Shit. Weren't Dave and him supposed to be anonymous and shit? That was kinda why the helmets existed. Thinking quickly, he gave a small shrug before answering cooly, "Di-Stri." 

"Di-Stri? My god you're really into your music, aren't you Jay Z?" The chuckle from the other end of the line made Dirk adopt an annoyed expression.

Clicking his tongue, Dirk leaned back in his chair, "Damn, well would you look at that? It looks like I'll need three grand to play at your party." 

"What?! I already offered twenty five hundred, why three?" 

"Well, Jay Z is a pretty popular name, don't wanna wear it out now do I?" 

There was a groan over the phone, but Dirk just smirked a little wider. "Fine, fine, three it is. So that means you accept?" 

"Can do. That all?"

"For the moment? Yes."

"Good. Now I've got a robot to fix, so later." Hanging up, Dirk let the phone drop, going back to Squarewave's knee. 

Dave, of course, had been listening in, and now walked into Dirks room, crossing his arms. "What the fuck did you just agree to?" 

"I got us a job," Dirk answered honestly, managing not to flinch as the robotic limb shot upwards when he moved the wrong wire.

"Since when are we doing jobs?" Dave asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Since they paid a few thousand bucks to do it." 

Dave paused at this, thinking. "How many songs are we gonna have to play?" 

Dirk sighed, setting the limb down, "More than we have."

 

-

 

"I didn't think you'd be requesting my assistance of all people for such an event," Rose admitted, walking around her apartment with a cup of coffee in one hand and a phone in the other, "As much as I appreciate my older sister's existence, we're not really that close at this point in time." 

"But you do know her better than most people," Jane said, laying back against her sofa as she wrote out the assortment of food that she'd need. Two weeks later and every hope for decorators had dashed, leaving Jane in a moderately tight spot. 

"Not better than you," Rose challenged, smirking a little. 

"Shush you. I still need help, plus I'm sure she'd love to see you," Jane singsonged. 

"It's a good three hours of driving," Rose sighed, setting her coffee down. "And I'm going to assume that you've already contacted your brother for help as well?" 

"Actually, not yet. Think you could ask him to help me with the cooking?" Jane asked, biting her bottom lip. 

Sighing deeply, Rose covered the receiver with her fingertips. "John!" She called out, and from a few rooms down in her apartment she heard a shuffling sound before a voice. 

"What?" 

"Your sister needs to talk to you." 

Emerging from his own room in the apartment shared by three people, a slightly tall, black haired and blue eyed boy walked down the hallway leading to the living room, wearing a comfortable and slightly bucked tooth smile. "Cool! I haven't talked to Jane in forever." Plucking up the phone, raised an eyebrow, having it poised over the rim of his square black glasses. "Hello?"

"John! How's the college life treating you?" She asked, smiling a little. John ended up going to the same college that she had been in, and as luck would have it (She was positive that Roxy had called administration and requested it), he was sharing a campus apartment with Roxy's younger sister, Rose, along with a friend that he'd grown up with, Jade Harley. Due to the same last name as his cousin, John had always hoped that Jade was related to Jake somehow, so that they could be related too. But unfortunately it was just coincidence. The three of them got along well enough, and unlike Roxy and Rose, Jane and John were still plenty close. 

Hopefully close enough that Jane could get some free labor out of him. 

"It's treating me well! Between the steady diet of Ramen and running all over campus to try and reach my classes in time, I'm even in perfect health," He snorted, smiling as he sat down next to Rose who was still sipping at her morning coffee. 

"Well then you'll love to hear this! How about I offer you a bunch of free food and you get free admission to a really cool party?" 

"That sounds great!" John said before he paused, eyes narrowing, "But what's the catch?" 

"You need to cook all the food. With me." 

"Jane!"

"Look, I need help and you're good at cooking! Please? I'll owe you."

John let out a whine, putting his feet on the coffee table. "This is in Houston, isn't it?" 

"Yup. But there's gonna be really cool music and it's in a private club," Jane pointed out, crossing her fingers. 

Looking over at Rose, he raised an eyebrow and moved the phone away for a moment, "If I go, are you and Jade coming with me?" 

"Seeing as I'm head of the decorating committee?" She questioned, sighing defeatedly, "I suppose you will have people for the long drive, yes." 

Back in Houston, Jane high fived Jake as John begrudgingly agreed on both his and Rose's part, the final pieces finally falling in place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to. Thanks for reading!))


	3. Phœnix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I must mention, to clarify in advance, that when either Dirk or Dave's LED screens go completely red, it's comparable to a blush ^^ AKA Dirk doesn't realize how much he blushes until he's nearly blinded by floods of red lights every five seconds. Enjoy!))

"Guys. Four days is understandable but also over dramatic and fucking ridiculous. Get out." Bro banged on the door one more time with a leather clad hand, his eyes narrowing behind his shades. 

"Can't," The word was barely loud enough to hear even as it was said in unison by two different voices, "not finished." 

"Not finished?" Bro asked, but suddenly the voices were gone and he was being ignored. He couldn't help it; Bro went from being slightly annoyed to a bit more pissed. He'd come back from a (surprisingly successful) trip, and the house looked like it hadn't been lived in since he'd left. Not a single new sword mark denting up the wall, there were no take out boxes or empty containers for food absolutely anywhere, and the apple juice that he'd picked up for Dave before he'd left was still unopened on the counter. That immediately tipped Bro off that something was wrong. 

Dirk had, of course, told him that they'd gotten a gig. He was still in Texas, waiting for his flight when he'd gotten the call, and in the middle of a crowded airport, he almost gave an actual smile. he was proud, sure, but even through the phone the most he'd given was a nod, which he was sure Dirk had reciprocated. He knew he was gonna be out of town for the next month, but as luck would have it, ties were made earlier than expected and it only lasted two of the four weeks. Bro got back a six days before their little shin dig. 

And suddenly everything made sense.

His brothers were fucking stupid. 

There was one point where Dave came out for a bathroom break and Dirk went into the kitchen for two glasses of water, shoulders hunched and stiff as he filled up the glasses. Bro'd been watching some shitty documentary about the making of decorative candles or something. Ironic as piss. But watching was kind of a strong term. Not the point. Point was he could even tell from the way that Dirk had slumped against the counter that he wanted to collapse. but before Bro could get a good look the both of them, they were back in that stupid fucking room, ignoring the universe and themselves all for a bunch of shiny knobs. Bro would bet money that he really didn't have that they weren't sleeping along with not eating. 

Fucking dumbasses. 

So here he was, doing something he hadn't had to do in years and play the 'stern parent' roll, banging on the door. 

"I don't care if you're not fucking finished, you've both got dark circles low enough that they're hanging below your god damned shades. It's fifty shades of self abuse in that room, now get the fuck out."

"Later," The two voices replied in tandem, and setting his jaw, Bro tried the handle. 

Locked. 

They should have known better than to lock the a door in Bro Strider's household. 

Dave ended up tripping backwards over his own feet and slamming his head against the wall as Dirk went on reflex for one of the swords in the wall, his hand already on the handle before he looked up and noticed that it was just Bro standing in the doorway, his stance making it obvious what had happened. The door now had splintering around the handle from where Bro had kicked it in, and it was hard for either of the younger Strider's to remember a time when Bro looked more pissed. 

Maybe the time that Cal's arm got ripped off in a strife? 

Nope. 

Bro's jaw was set. 

Fuck. 

Worse than that.

"The fuck, Bro?! You broke the god damned door!" Dirk would have probably at least gotten hit over the back of the head usually, but the more Bro looked, the more he wanted to avoid a light hit and punch them both in their faces. 

Dirk's hair was completely flat against his head, not styled and a bit greasy with, in fact, purple forming high on his cheekbones from lack of sleep. He could already tell how exhausted Dave must be, seeing as he was now sitting on the ground instead of jumping to a defensive position like Dirk. Not to mention that they both even looked thinner than usual. 

"You're worried about a fucking door?" He asked, walking over and grabbing the back collar of Dirk's shirt roughly, lifting him up and nearly dragging him to repeat the action with Dave. Both of them struggled and kicked, hands going to Bro's wrist to hold themselves up far enough not to get choked as they were dragged out of the room. 

"Bro!"

"Fucking let up!"

"You're worried about a god damned door when you both look like you could drop dead any second?" Bro asked, still carrying each of the boys a few inches above the ground. The first room stopped at was Dave's, and dropping Dave to his feet for a split second to open the door. Grabbing Dave's shirt, Bro dragged his brother in and tossed him on his bed, grabbing his shades off of his face and putting them on the collar of his own shirt. 

"We need to save our progress, you dick," Dave began to argue, and this time he did earn a small swat on the back of the head, turning horrifically blood shot eyes up to Bro's shaded ones. Dirk was still about three inches off the ground, but no longer kicking and just looking as annoyed as Dave felt. 

"You need sleep, is what you need. And manners. And a shower, holy fuck. I didn't teach you guys to fucking ruin yourselves over the idea of a little cash, got it?" Pushing Dave back down against his bed, he left the room with Dirk in tow, repeating the process and sliding another pair of shades onto his shirt collar as Dirk collapsed against his bed. 

Walking out into the hallway, he spoke loud enough for it to ring through the two doorways. "You're not getting your shades back until both of you have gotten sleep, showered, actually eaten and look like the presentable young men that you are. The music room is off limits until you can both fucking say the alphabet backwards and walk in a straight line." 

"We can't say the alphabet backwards anyways," Dave argued. 

"Then learn, numbnuts," Was the reply, and in a blink both doors has been closed. "Goodnight." 

"It's three in the afternoon," Dirk yelled through the closed door. 

"Good afternoon then," Bro responded, half way considering punching through the door just to flip him off as he stalked back to the living room. 

Snoring could be heard throughout the apartment in thirty seconds flat, causing Bro to sigh and scoop up his keys. 

He needed to go get food for Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb. 

-

"How many people are coming to this, exactly?" John asked, stirring the caramel on the stove top with his right hand as the left continued to stir the chocolate in the double boiler, making sure it didn't get over-cooked. 

"One hundred and fifty six," Jane replied, her pink and ruffled cupcake apron covered in flour as she mixed a bowl of what John was fairly sure to be some sort of batter. 

He let out a low whistle, "I knew Roxy was well known, but I didn't think she'd have that many people that were able to come," John said, putting the caramel on the back burner as he took the chocolate off the stove. Off to his side, there were what appeared to be hundreds of little graham cracker pie crusts, no bigger than a shot glass. Each was getting a little chocolate poured into the bottom as John spoke to his sister over his shoulder. 

"Are you joking?" She chuckled, shaking her head, "The original list was nearly four hundred, but we decided to cut back a little bit." 

John just let out an amused huff through his nose as he continued to pour, shaking his head. He'd driven up to Jane and Roxy's apartment a few days ago (He was only coming by to cook, but otherwise was spending time looking around Houston and crashed in his hotel room), and the party was tomorrow, leaving the final deserts to be made still. Him and Jane had been cooking non-stop; home made pizzas, pastas, finger foods, cakes, and pastries galore. Silence fell for a five minute period before a question came to mind.

"So she's at work again? Still? She's hardly been home since I got here," John said, frowning a little as he filled one of the cups a bit too much. 

"I kid you not, she never takes a break. They told her that if she works hard enough she could get a job there, and she's pretty darn determined to get a spot," She sighed, smiling a little. 

"So she's not gonna come in and find our little operation?" 

"Nope, not a chance," Jane promised, smiling as she dusted her hands off. 

"What's the company called? The one that she's working at right now?" John asked. 

"Alternia Records. Her boss is this really cool dude who totally agreed to give her tomorrow off for her birthday, but I kinda feel bad because she probably thinks this means she can spend most of tomorrow sleeping." 

"Aww, poor Roxy. She wants naps and instead gets a ridiculously extravagant party," John sighed, finishing pouring the chocolate and picking up the caramel, covering the now chocolate filled cups with a layer of it. 

"I know, bless her poor soul," Jane said with a giggle, pouring the batter into a pre-greased pan. Brushing her brother out of the way, she barely managed to get the cake in the oven before the front door opened, causing her to go a little wide eyed and glance at the small silver watch she wore. 

"Janie!" Was called out from the entryway, and John nearly dropped the pot of caramel. 

"What is she doing home?" He hissed as Jane took off her apron, brushing invisible bits of flour off of her figure as she fluffed her hair slightly. 

"I don't know!" She hissed back before exiting the kitchen, smiling at her friend. "Roxy, you're home early!"

"I know," She groaned, her black colored lips forming into a pour as she kicking off her shoes and stumbling over to Jane, throwing her arms around her dramatically, "I think I need a hug." 

"What? Why, what happened?" Jane asked, frowning as she hugged Roxy. 

"I think Ampora's mad at me," She huffed, having to push up on the balls of her feet to rest her chin on Jane's shoulder, "He sent me home early and told me to take tomorrow off, but was hella terse about it." Squeezing Jane once before falling back to her feet flatly, Roxy ran her hands through her ice blonde hair before scooping it back to get out of her face. 

"Oh, I'm sure Cronus isn't mad," Jane assured, frowning but internally cheering. Just according to plan. 

"Well he didn't seem happy," Roxy retorted, stretching her arms above her head before going to slip off her shirt. 

"Roxy!" Jane said, going a little wide eyed and shaking her head. 

Gaining a confused expression, Roxy raised a plucked eyebrow, "What? It was a long day and clothing sounds horrible and Ben and Jerry's and Breaking Bad sounds great. Plus, it's not like it'd be the first time you've seen me take my shirt off."

From the kitchen, laughter cracked and burst forth as Jane sighed, covering her face in embarrassment. "Okay that sounds bad out of context," She said loud enough that John could hear.

"I recognize that laugh," Roxy said, lighting up immediately and turning on heel, making her way into the kitchen, "John!" 

"Hey stranger!" He greeted, wrapping her up in a hug as he beamed. Roxy was like a second older sister to him, so it was always nice seeing her. She popped her feet up behind her as she laughed, squeezing the tall boy once.

"When did you get here? I didn't even know that you were in Houston!"

"A few days ago, with-" From the doorway, Jane shook her head, making a cutting motion over her throat with a wide eyed expression, "With a plan to say happy birthday!" He forgot. Surprise party. With her sister being part of the surprise.

"Well aren't you sweet?" She asked, pinching his cheeks once before looking at the counter. "Any reason for the all the cute little cups?" She asked, looking between the two of them. 

Jane offered an easy smile, "Eh, it's a new recipe I was practicing, and John was helping." 

Roxy, of course, plucked one up, popping the entire thing into her mouth in one bite. "This is fucking delicious," She managed to say through the mouthful, grabbing three more and making her way to the living room. 

"They need to settle a bit!" John called after her, and Jane just sighed a little with a fond smile. Turning to look at his sister, he adopted a smug expression, "So, what was that I heard earlier?" 

Near immediately, Jane turned beet red, hiding her face behind her hands, "Oh god that sounded so bad out of context. She just meant that when two girls live with each other, shirts kind of become optional." 

John was on the brink of laughter again as he cleared his throat, "Optional?" 

"Oh god," Jane groaned, "This is getting worse, I'm going to the living room."

Turns out that the labor was less than free; it only cost her dignity. 

"Jane? Grab the Pistachio Pistachio from the freezer, you and I are gonna break bad!" Roxy called out, and John noticed that Jane smiled behind her hands. 

-

Four fifteen and Dirk and Dave were already parked outside of Deuces, both wearing slightly pinched expressions. 

"You didn't think this out at all," Dave accused, and Dirk sighed. 

"Nope."

"We can't wear our helmets the entire time we set all this shit up, we'll go into heat stroke from moving so much." 

"True." 

"Plus we don't want anyone to know who we are." 

"Also true." 

"You're not even defending yourself, you piece of shit," Dave said with a smirk. 

"We're just gonna have to be the silent movers," Dirk said, frowning a little in thought. "But this English guy has gotta give a down payment beforehand." 

"So? Go get it." 

"I have no idea what he looks like." 

"God this entire job sounds so fucking shady," Dave mumbled, reaching into the backseat and grabbing the silver helmet, pushing it into Dirk's lap, "No go get our money. Ask around to find him I guess, I'll start setting up shop." 

"Who made you the boss?" Dirk asked, slipping the helmet on and flicking it on with ease. Looking at him, Dave frowned a little and question marks went over Dirk's eyes. "What?" 

"Your hands are uncovered," Dave said, motioning to Dirk's current attire. He was wearing a leather jacket that clung to his frame tightly, but his hands were exposed, "It doesn't match with the rest of your shit." 

"Are you really going to make this a problem? The fact that my hands are exposed?" Dirk asked, and even through the robotic tuning Dave could hear the disbelief. 

"Just go in and get the money, I'll be right back," Dave said, turning the car on. 

"Alright Ru Paul, thanks for making sure my attire is all matching," He snarked, slipping out of the car and subconsciously putting his hands in his pockets.

God he must have looked weird. This bright silver helmet, the only bit of color on the leather bound figure who was also wearing black skinny jeans and black boots. 

Shit maybe Dave was right. His hands must have actually stood out. 

Behind him, the car roared away, and he was forced to continue walking ahead, stepping into the club as he he damn well owned it. 

-

"What the hell?" Was mumbled under Jake's breath as he looked at the doorway, his heart beating in his throat. He'd been helping Jade set up a snacks table as Rose went to go get a table cloth when he saw it. 

A robot. 

An honest to god robot. Was just standing there. Looking around. 

Then its blank eyes turned towards him and the weirdest thing happened. The eyes turned completely red. 

This caused him to swallow thickly, maintaining eye contact as the thing stepped forward, and Christ on a bike it was tall!

"You," The voice that spoke was electronic and enough to make Jake almost start shaking. Was this really happening? "I need to find a man named English." 

"English?" He repeated, his accent lilting slightly as he looked up at the stranger. He knew, rationally, that this was a person dressed as a robot, but bloody hell if they didn't look like one. "I. Me. I'm English." 

Two exclamation points flashed on the black eyes before they went blank again, and the stranger nodded. "Di-Stri, reporting for duty." 

"You're Di-Stri?" He questioned, his head tilting a little bit as he looked at the helmet closely. 

"Should I go by Jay Z?" He responded in a monotone voice, and Jake blushed. 

"I just mean. . . You sound a lot more. . . Electronic than you did over the phone."

"Maybe because I wasn't wearing the helmet," He shrugged offhandedly, looking around the place. 

"So there is a person under there?" He asked, letting out a relieved chuckle. Again, the eyes went red, but exactly like before, they went black near immediately after. 

"Of course bro, you didn't think that a robot could make music with that much soul, did you?" He even lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers, revealing extremely pale human flesh. 

Jake outwardly laughed this time, nodding, "Well it's good to meet you then, Di-Stri. I'm Jake English," He extended his tanned hand, and it was gripped tightly in a hand shake. 

"Jake?" He questioned, his head tipping a little, "It matches better than English, that's for sure. People with the name Jake usually have a tendency of being hot, so you fit the bill well." 

This time Jake blushed horribly, Di-Stri's fingers brushing his wrist so lightly that it may have been part of Jake's imagination as he pulled his hand away, returning it to his pockets again. "So. You offered a hell of a deal with that three grand business. Unfortunately it's my job to deliver the news that you've gotta give a down payment before my partner and i unload all the equipment." 

"There are two of you?" Jake asked, looking surprised. 

"That was implied, yeah," The electronic voice responded, and for a moment Jake was sure the guy was rolling his eyes behind the helmet. 

"Does he look like you?" Jake asked, motioning at the helmet and earning an electronic chuckle. 

"He has one too, yes. But let's face it, I look way better in silver than him. He got stuck with gold." 

"A gold and silver robot? That alone is worth the three thousand," Jake said with a smile, nodding, "But alright. I thought you'd ask for a down payment." From his pocket he pulled out a decent sized wad of cash, and the eyes went to exclamation points once more as he began to flick out the money evenly. 

Handing it over, the pale hands swiftly counted through the money before pausing. "This is the whole payment." 

"Yes?" 

"Usually people don't pay until after it's all said and done. You know, in case I hopped into my car and drove off right about now?" 

"Eh, I don't know why, but you don't seem like the type. No one would go through the trouble of such an extensive outfit if they weren't at least slightly serious about their music," He said, his grin falling crooked. 

"I was totally right, you were buttering me up," A mechanical sigh left the being as he slipped the money into his back pocket, "At least buy me a drink first."

"What can I get you then?"

"Oil, usually, but seeing as I want to treat myself, give me WD-40. Sprayed, not stirred." 

Jake had no idea what the eyes turning red meant, but as he laughed again, he relaxed a little, Di-Stri chuckling with him as the eyes stayed red for a while longer. 

-

Dave was digging through a rack of gloves in a Wal-Mart two miles away when he had to play savior. This idiot was fucking heelying around a store, yes, heelying, like in Heelys, a shoe that should have died in 2007. And well, Dave actually noticed. How could you not? Some hot dude rolls past you on shoes that are a blast from the past, you're gonna notice. He looked like he should have been clumsy, all long limbs and tan cargo shorts, but he wore an easy smile as he carried a small bottle of aspirin, rolling smoothly down the same aisle that Dave was in. 

Until a finger of one of the gloves that Dave had dropped wrapped around one of this guys wheels, causing him to let out what could only be described as a squawk and stumble forward. 

Right into Dave. 

Just his luck. 

Catching the both of them, Dave raised a white brow over his shades as this blue eyed mess turned his gaze upwards, looking absolutely horrified. Which he should have. He looked to be the same age as Dave and he was currently crashed against a strangers chest in the middle of Wal-Mart because his stupid wheeled shoes had malfunctioned. 

"Uh-" He said, trying to stand and slipping again on his own wheel for a second time. "Fuck, ow, shit, okay, I, uh-"

"Dude, relax," Dave ordered, wrapping his arms tightly around the guy so he wouldn't slip again as he fought to get his balance. 

"I- Damn, sorry, I've never messed up in these things, I-"

"Hey. I used to own a pair of those things, trust me, they're a pain in the ass, I know. But I think something's stuck in yours, might wanna look into that." 

"Really?" The guy asked, and Dave helped him stand as he tilted his foot up to look at the wheel, noticing the glove which Dave reached over and unwrapped with ease. 

"My bad. Must have dropped that," He shrugged, tossing it back onto the pile of gloves that had formed as he'd looked. 

"Gloves? Really? Isn't it a little warm for that?" The stranger chuckled, and wow you know for being a stumbling idiot his face didn't look half bad when it was smiling. 

"It's December," Dave replied. 

"It's sixty five degrees out right now." 

"Still winter," He said, looking the guy up and down once behind his shades. He was a little taller than Dave, a mop of black hair, fucking square glasses and a Ghost Buster's tee shirt. Total dork. 

"Not where I'm from. Winter was negative ten on a good day," The Ghost Buster said, giving a grin that revealed buck teeth. Jesus he just kept getting better/worse. He looked so lame. 

It was kinda great. 

"Where are you from, Hell?" 

"Washington." 

"Yeah, what I said, Hell." 

"Wouldn't Hell be hot?" 

"Nope, because it's obviously frozen over, seeing as someone owns Heelys in 2014." 

This time the guy turned bright red, looking down at his shoes and kicking one slightly, "Hehe, yeah," He sighed, "They're just fun." 

"I thought they stopped making them, honestly," Dave said, looking down and smirking just a little, "But glad they didn't."

"Oh?" He questioned. 

"If it sends a cute stranger stumbling into my arms I can't really complain," Dave replied smoothly, smirking a little wider as the guy blushed again. 

"I-" He cleared his throat before extending a hand, "Sorry, I'm John." 

"Dave," Dave nodded once, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. The guy had long fingers, holy fuck. 

"Also, sorry for running into you," John apologized, giving a smile, "I should have paid attention." 

"Don't worry about it man," Dave dismissed, waving his hand once as something caught the corner of his eye. Reaching out, he grabbed two pairs of black leather gloves from the stand off to his side, looking them over. 

"I probably will for a long time after this, but thanks for the reassurance!" John's nose crinkled as he ran a hand through his hair. It was then that his phone went off and he adopted a surprised expression, reaching into his pocket and unlocking it. "Oh, shit."

"Late for something?" Dave asked, nodding once towards the opening of the aisle and actually almost looking surprised as John followed him, walking instead of rolling.

"Yeah, my sister's throwing this party for her friend and I was supposed to bring aspirin, but apparently the music entertainment just got there and they'll probably need help setting up."

Dave frowned at that. Huh. Wait a damn second. 

"A party, huh? Just a small get together then?" 

"Ha, I wish. It's at this club and a massive amount of people are coming," John rolled his eyes, "My sister actually got the entire club rented out." 

"Club?" 

"Yeah, Deuces, it's not too far from here."

Oh. 

Oh shit. 

"Sounds nice," Dave said, nodding once, "Who's playing?" 

"Dunno. Jake wanted to keep it a surprise, I guess? But apparently it's his favorite band, so," John shrugged, making his way to one of the check out counters. Behind him, Dave almost smiled. 

"Huh. Hope you have a good time," Dave said, "But I've gotta go. Late for a winter extravaganza." He waved the gloves once, and John laughed again. 

"Well, thanks for catching me," He responded, giving an honest smile and a small wave. 

"Maybe I'll catch you later," He replied, and John just blushed again, "Later, John." 

"Later," He replied, watching the blonde stranger begin to walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to. Thanks for reading!))


	4. Harder Better Faster Stronger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I would really suggest listening to the Daft Punk song Harder Better Faster Stronger to this chapter, but it's not needed in the slightest, it's just hella rad ^^))

Dave barely got his helmet on before a fist was hitting on his window. 

"Hold the fuck up!" He called out, his hands dancing across the back carefully before flicking it on, taking in a deep breath and watching the world light up around him. Turning to look at the window, he saw his bro, who he was more than sure was wearing an annoyed expression under his own gear. 

"What the fuck, dude?" An electronic voice asked from outside the door, and reaching into the back seat, Dave plucked up the leather jacket that he'd been dreading putting on. It was already hot out, why the fuck was the leather needed? 

"Got you a little gift," Dave said, opening the door and handing Dirk a pair of gloves. 

"Oh my fucking god, you ditched me for twenty minutes to go get gloves?" He asked, but even as his recorder emitted a sigh, Dirk slipped the things on with ease. Sliding out of the car as well, Dave slipped on his jacket before putting on his own pair, wiggling his fingers.

"You look better with them, stop being such a bitch about it," Dave muttered, hating how his voice sounded compared to the smoothness of Dirks. "Did you end up finding English?" 

"Jake? Yeah, he's over there," Dirk said, thrusting a thumb behind him and allowing Dave's gaze to fall on a dark haired kid who was looking at them in apparent awe. 

"Jake?" 

"Yeah, it's his first name." 

"Oh, you're on a first name basis now. When's the wedding?" 

"Shut the hole in your face. Also, you need to come up with a name," Dirk said, looking behind him at Jake who gave a small wave. 

"A name?" 

"Yeah, we can't say Dirk and Dave, it'll give shit away and render our kick ass gear pointless." 

"What's your name then?" 

"Di-Stri." 

"You don't want to give us away so you use the first letters of both your first and last name?" Dave rolled his eyes, wishing that Dirk could see it, but eventually crossed his arms over his chest. "Uh. . . Fuck. Fine, I'll just go with my chumhandle. Turntech it is." 

"Turntech and Di-Stri. Wow." 

"So, are you gonna help me unload, or are you and Jaaaake gonna do it?" The breathy, dramatic way he managed to say Jake's name through his recorder did something, evidently, as the screens on Dirk's helmet went fully red. 

"Actually we just need to set it up. His cousin is helping or some shit." 

"Oh." Pausing for a moment, an exclamation point went over Dave's face, "Oh shit, about that-"

"What did you do?" Dirk questioned, two question marks making their way onto his screen. 

"Kinda met that guy while getting the gloves." 

"How do you know it's the same guy?" 

"He fucking answered a text saying that he needed to go help the 'music guys' at Deuces unload and set their shit up."

"Well that's really fucking specific. You didn't tell him that you were playing at this, did you?" Dirk asked, waving a hand and signaling for Jake to begin waking over. 

"Hell no, with the jacket covering my shirt and with my face hidden the dude won't even recognize me. But he was hot, so it's kinda wasted." 

A hand tapped on the rainbows on Dave's helmet, and a hand flew out to punch Dirk in the shoulder, causing metallic laughter to fill the air between them. 

-

"Robots?" John asked, wearing a confused expression as he handed the bottle to Jane. 

"Robots," She assured, taking two of the tablets out and swallowing them down with a swig from her water bottle before continuing, "They're setting up on stage right now, if you wanna look at them." 

"You sound so creepy," John accused, but that didn't stop him from leaning to look behind her, down the hallway to where the stage was. 

"You look creepy, just peaking around corners," She replied, taking another sip of water and tapping his shoulder, "And they need your help anyways with unloading equipment, so go! We don't have much longer until it's time to start."

Sighing, John blew a raspberry at her before walking down the hallway. Robots? Seriously? What kind or robots? Did they look fake? Did they talk? Were they covered in metal? He was actually biting his lip in thought as he walked, opening the door and, for the second time that day, hitting into someone's chest. 

There were two thudding noises as John fell, knocking the stranger over as well. "Sorry!" He said immediately before he could even sit up, looking up and noticing a bright red screen looking back at him. What the hell?

"It's fine," A scratchy, robotic voice responded, the screen going blank before portraying a large exclamation point. 

"Wow, cool helmet!" John admonished, scrambling to his feet before offering a hand. 

". . . Thanks," The person said, gripping John's hand tightly before smoothly pulling them self to stand. 

"So you guys are the ones playing, right?" John asked, brushing himself off and looking at the leather bound stranger, "I don't think I recognize you." 

Putting a hand to his own chest, the stranger introduced, "Turntech. I'm part of Daft Punk." 

"Daft Punk?" John frowned in thought for a moment before Turntech elaborated. 

"Around The World? Da Funk? Phœnix?"

John blinked before his face lit up, his movement jerking so suddenly that the exclamation point made another appearance. "Oh my god that's you?! Your music plays literally all over my campus, it's ridiculous!"

The screen in front of him turned red again as Turntech waved his hand, "All in a days work." 

"Didn't know you guys were robots, though," John chuckled, "That's way cooler than I would have thought." It was then he realized that he'd broken his fathers golden rule and failed to introduce himself when the other member of the party did, "I'm John, by the way." 

"John. Good name," The robot replied, nodding once. 

"You don't seem to talk very much," John commented, an easy smile falling on his face as he put his hands in his pockets. 

"Usually I never shut up, but my voice chip sounds like shit, especially compared to Di-Stri's," Turntech clarified, jerking a thumb in the general direction of another robot, who was caring a long, thin board covered in knobs. 

"It doesn't sound that bad," John assured, "Just kinda like robotic laryngitis." Looking over Turntech's shoulder, he could see the other robot set the piece of equipment down, watching as him and Jake carried a conversation. Wow, his cousin was bushing like crazy!

"Such sweet talk," Turntech said, waving his hand like a fan aimed towards his helmet as John looked back over, "Got me sweating like a sinner in church." 

"Do robots even sweat?" John asked, smiling a bit wider. 

"The people under the robot helmets do," The guy responded, and for a moment John actually got embarrassed. He'd really forgotten that that was a person, holy crap. "But forget I said that," Turntech ordered, "Because I am totally a robot, not a human at all." 

"Aww, so you're not a human after all?" John asked, rolling back a little on his heels as the robot looked down. 

"Jesus christ, Heelys," Turntech sighed, and the ravenette blushed. 

"Yeah, they've caused me problems, believe me." 

"I think I can imagine," The robot said, and John could have sworn he could hear a bit of a smile in his voice, "So, are you gonna help us move shit in or are we gonna let the lame guys do it?" 

"That depends on your definition of lame," John laughed. 

"Eh, I'm trying to fix it so it doesn't include people who still wear wheeled shoes in this day and age," Turntech huffed. 

"They are not that bad!"

"Whatever you say, Speedy Gonzales," He responded, lifting two leather bound gloves in a surrendering position.

John looked at them for a moment, a thought moving sluggishly in his mind before it came to light; those were cool gloves. "So!" He said, beginning to walk to the door and watching as Turntech followed him, "How much equipment do you guys have?" 

"A fucking lot," Turntech verbalized, and John snorted. 

"So eloquent." 

"Not in the helmet, no. Outside of this thing I am the king of raps and rhymes," He assured, allowing John to hold the door for him before beginning to lead him over to his car. 

"I'm guessing I'll never get to hear that then?" John asked and looking over his shoulder, a question mark appeared over Turntech's face before he shrugged. 

"Depends on if you can get me drunk enough to give you my number," He answered honestly, and he didn't even need to turn around to be able to tell that John was blushing. 

This job was getting better and better as time went on.

 

-

 

"Jane, why?" Roxy whined, her hand clenched tightly in Jane's as she was dragged along, "I was so ready to relax at home. I was even going to do mani pedis! Don't get me wrong, momma loves hitting the clubs, but sleep and Oreo's sound pretty great too." 

"Oh hush you, I've heard it's discounted to get in tonight and they have live entertainment!" Jane lured, throwing a smile over her shoulder. 

She'd managed to get Roxy dressed and made up, but that didn't change the fact that her friend was a little more than desperate to relax at home. After three consecutive weeks of working, Jane couldn't even blame her. But, that didn't stop the surprise party from happening in the least. So, she continued to lay on more reasons to go out as they neared Deuces, "Plus, it's your birthday! We should be out, celebrating, not sitting at home." 

"Can't we celebrate at home?" Roxy asked, but the smile she wore let Jane know she was beginning to win her over. 

"Nooo, at home isn't that fun! And come on, when have you ever turned down a night on the town?"

Jane relaxed a little as the resistance behind her turned into a silent agreement with her statement, Roxy now walking by her side, "It better be really good music," She said, her black lips pulled into a devilish smile as they walked side by side. 

"I think you'll like it," Jane giggled, winking at the bouncer who let them both in immediately. 

Looking surprised as she was ushered in, she looked over her shoulder as she wore a huge smile, "He just let us in! Not even a check for ID, tsk tsk, how irresponsible." 

"Well, that's kind of because-"

The roar of the word 'Surprise!' drown out the end of Jane's statement as the place lit up around Roxy, the house lights turning on momentarily to reveal the throngs of people who were all smiling widely. A few that stood out to Roxy were her boss, more than a few of her colleagues, her baby sister and her mother, who was wearing her own smirk with a small wave of her hand. 

"Oh my god," She said, looking around with an open mouth and a disbelieving expression, "You didn't." 

"I totally did," Jane assured, pulling her into a hug, "Happy birthday!"

"Jane, you kick total ass and you're my new favorite!" Roxy squealed, wrapping her arms around Jane and spinning, earning her friend clinging to her for dear life. 

The houselights turned back off, allowing the lighting to shift from blinding to relaxed with different hues of whites and blues all around them. From behind, there was another calling of voices over the immediate babbling that had taken the club over, "Happy birthday Roxy!" John said, Jake in tow and the two of them wearing large grins. 

Ending her hug with Jane, Roxy grabbed her friends face in her hands and kissed her square on the mouth, pulling back with a completely lit up expression, "Thank you thank you thank you!" Turning around, she hugged both John and Jake at the same time, one arm slung around each of their necks while they both looked at Jane with wide eyes. "This is amazing!" Roxy said again, squeezing them once before letting go and looking over at her mother and sister. "Rose! Mom!" Her call elicited a smile from the two of them, and she left the small pod that she was in, bouncing over to them and hugging her mom tightly.

John and Jake just looked at Jane, laughter bubbling up between the two of them as Jane looked absolutely floored. 

"Gadzooks, did that really just happen?" Jake managed to gasp out, having to lean on John from how hard he was laughing as Jane touched her lips slightly with her finger tips. She now looked as if she were wearing black lipstick as well, only driving John and Jake to laugh harder. 

John was about to speak when an odd warping sound filled the stage, causing him to frown and look over. Suddenly a steady beat rose, tapering on the end before repeating and the stage became flooded in several multi-colored lights, as well as lighting up the dancefloor. It sounded interesting enough that it drew several eyes up, and Jake gave a smile. 

"I told them to play a welcoming song, but I'll be damned, I didn't think he'd be able to convince Turntech to do it!" Jake chuckled before the beat dropped, several different layers now being added. 

"But I've never heard this one," John said, frowning as he looked up. He could very well see that both of the heads up front were bobbing in unison, hands flying faster than John could make out. 

"That's because it's live," Jake said, getting a proud expression, "Never been recorded before." 

"How the hell did you manage to get them to do that?" John asked, going a little wide eyed as he looked up at the two of them. 

"I won a bet with Di-Stri. He bet me that I couldn't properly set up their equipment," Jake shrugged. 

And then the singing started. 

"Work it," Di-Stri started.

"Make it," Turntech responded. 

"Do it."

"Makes us." 

Roxy looked up at the stage, her smile from before only growing as she watched the two robots sing. Their voices were amplified to the same volume as their music, the beat causing her to bounce on her feet and to her it sounded, well. . . 

It sounded great. 

"Harder." 

"Better."

"Faster."

"Stronger."

Jane blinked as a hand slipped into hers, and looking up she blushed at the sight of Roxy, who was tugging her towards the dancefloor. "Come on! You set this up, you're gonna dance with me," She said, pulling her along. 

"But-!" Jane started, looking back at Jake and John for help and only getting two smug waves in return. 

"Come oon!"

"More than." 

"Hour."

"Our."

"Never." 

Under his helmet, Dave was grinning wider than he thought possible, sucking in breath and letting the words fall out to finish Dirk's statements.

"Ever."

"After."

"Work is." 

"Over."

Against the bar, the eyes of one Cronus Ampora narrowed as a small smile worked his way onto his lips, his foot tapping to the beat lightly. The same segments of words repeated themselves, and watching as the two performers moved smoothly to the beat, his smile grew. 

The beat picked up at the end of the same cycles, the words now combining.

And the club came alive. 

"Work it harder."

"Make it better." 

"Do it faster." 

"Makes us stronger."

"More than ever." 

"Hour after." 

"Our work is?" Di-Stri questioned. 

"Never over," Turntech finished in a lower voice, and the dancefloor seemed to fill in before Cronus's eyes. 

The song was addictive in the oddest possible way. And watching the way the two of them worked their equipment so seamlessly, the producer was finding it harder and harder to leave his work in the office and keep his mind on enjoying the party thrown for a friend and colleague.

The lyrics stayed the same, but the inflection and pitched changed constantly, intonation changing on a dime and soon enough Cronus found himself dialing in a number to his office building. 

From the dancefloor, Roxy spun Jane as the two of them laughed among a large crowd of other dancers, the beat turning smooth before suddenly ripping back into gear.

The robots split the words, the first sounding far higher and clearer than the second as the song began to come to an end. 

"Work it harder -"

"Make it better-"

"Do it faster-"

"Makes us stronger-"

"More than ever-"

"Hour after-"

"Our work is-"

"Never over," The gold robot finished deeply, both of their hands falling away from the boards in front of them as the pace erupted. 

A hand went to Dave's shoulder, and from behind his helmet he let out an honest to god laugh, putting his own hand on Dirk's helmet before the two of them raised their a hand in greeting to the crowd, earning another cheer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to. Thanks for reading!))


	5. Nightvision

Two hours. Two hours of straight playing and Dirk could feel his fingers and hands starting to cramp. It's not like they hadn't spent longer playing before, it's just that this was more intense. No room for mistake. Meaning that movements were harsh and precise. Looking over as they reached a half way point in their song, Dirk was almost annoyed that Dave gave absolutely no indication of any discomfort or enjoyment for that matter. 

Stupid fucking robots, always hiding what they're thinking. 

Reaching back when he could, he unhooked his own microphone from the speakers by disconnecting the cable from his helmet, and Dave looked over with apparent interest, a question mark flashing.

"How're you holding up?" Dirk asked over the roar of the music, and he watched as Dave flexed his hands once before a large, red x flashed over his screen. He made sure not to speak, seeing as whatever he said would be played out for the entire club. "Same," Dirk agreed, "We need to take a break, soon." 

Of course, Dave had nodded to that without a second thought. At the end of the song, Around The World, this version having been modified for the event, Dirk heard Dave speak. He'd nearly forgotten that Dave was still hooked up to the sound system. 

"Twenty minutes," He verbalized, his screen getting a check mark as he tapped his helmet, "Need to reboot." 

This earned laughter from the crowd, but also applause, which was soon drown out by new music. Dave began playing a few mixes that he'd done over the years, and with that the two of them waved once before slipping off stage, being greeted with the sight of two dark haired idiots with smiles. 

Both Striders would be lying if they said they hadn't smiled back behind their masks of blank stares. 

But that was probably just from the adrenaline. Duh. 

"That was awesome!" John assured, clasping Turntech on the shoulder and earning an exclamation point in response as Jake practically bounced up and down. 

"Devilfucking dickens, you lot are bloody amazing!" Jake said, and Di-Stri's screens immediately went red. 

"Your face looks a little red, bro, you feeling alright?" Turntech asked, even his altered voice practically dripping with a condescending tone as he nudged his shoulder against his band members, getting hit in the arm in return. 

This caused Jake to blush as well as John began to laugh behind his hand, and Turntech stretched. "Fuck, my hands hurt."

"I know," Di-Stri agreed, lacing his own fingers together and pressing, hearing dozens of pops ring through. 

"Well if you want, there's a room for performers here where you two can rest up," Jake offered, looking between the two of them. Di-Stri's face stayed blank, but Turntech gave a giant check mark. 

"Lead the way," Turntech insisted, glancing over at John behind his mask. The dork was still smiling, looking at him with. . . 

Admiration?

The red screen took over again. 

God fucking damn it. 

"Alright, jus-" Jake had begun to walk before he let out a loud yelp, his chest meeting the floor as he was tackled by a blur of white and blonde, "Good lord, Roxy!" He wheezed out as a girl laughed against his back, "You're squishing the everfriggin tar out of me!"

"You're a poor sport, but good thing you know how to flatter a girl," She responded, hopping to her feet easily. Turntech was actually surprised; she was wearing bright pink heels that were taller than her foot was long, walking could not have been comfortable and she was bouncing around like she was in a god damn jumping castle. And looking at the two boys standing in front of her, she grinned, "Well now look at you two! You're even cooler up close!"

There was silence for a moment, their helmets turning just a little to look at each other before looking back at the pink eyed beauty, "You too?" Di-Stri offered, and the girl laughed. 

"Roxy Lalonde," She said, offering up a hand, "I work with Alternia Records and dum dah dum daaaah, you're at my party!"

"Oh, shit-" Grasping her hand tightly, he shook it, introducing himself, "I'm Di-Stri, this is my brother, Turntech." 

"Brother?" Jake and John asked in unison, and Dave couldn't help but roll his eyes behind his mask. 

"Your parents must have really wanted you guys to not fit in at school with names like that," She said with a click of her tongue, shaking his hand before shaking Turntech's as well. Looking over her shoulder, she waved at both Jake and John, "You've got to flirt with them enough, now move for a second, I need to talk to these fine young pieces of machinery."

"We have not-!"

"Flirting?!"

Both of the boys looked offended, which caused Di-Stri to get question marks and Turntech to adopt a large red x as he crossed his arms over his chest. However, both of them were stunned silent as another figure joined them, tall and intimidating. That look was knocked down a peg, however, when Roxy squealed and turned around, hugging him. "Cro! Sorry for not saying hi earlier, but good you got my text. We have a few things to talk about." 

"Agreed," He said, looking between the robots and offering a smile. Dave couldn't help but notice that the dude had canines like a shark, but he looked friendly enough. Probably in his late twenties to early thirties, with dark hair slicked back and an easy smile. "Hello Jake, John," 'Cro' said, giving them a nod and the performers of the evening watched as both of them deflated just a little. It was official, they'd been totally dismissed. 

"Down the hall and to the left," Jake said, pointing half heartedly and sighing. Both him and John turned to leave, and for a moment Dave didn't want either of them to go; He wasn't sure what was going on and he only had about seventeen more minutes of relaxation before he was due back on stage. The feeling was fleeting as the two boys left, allowing Roxy to nod once with a happy smile and begin to walk. She led the way like she owned the place, and the moment a room came into sight that had a blue circle and a white star on it, Roxy pushed it open, ushering them inside.

"Sorry, but helmets off," Where the first words out of her mouth, closing the door behind her.

"We can't do that," Turntech said immediately, and it was at this point the large guy cleared his throat. 

Dave thought he was gonna get some weird, 'I'm bigger than you so you'll do what I say' act, but instead was offered an open hand, "Cronus Ampora. I'm Roxy's boss, and I work at a rather well known record company, here in Houston. I'd like to have a rather serious conversation with you two, but I will only speak to the people, not the robots." His w's and v's had an odd slurred sound to them, hardly noticeable when he was speaking quickly but definitely there. 

Dave swallowed. Were these guys actually serious? Because if what was happening was what he thought was happening, he'd strip down to his boxers if they asked. But he also wasn't sure how much to trust the situation. 

Dave turned his head and looked at Dirk, both of them silent for about ten seconds before Dave sighed in defeat, turning off his helmet before pulling it off his head. He winced just a touch at the brightness of a room without shading, and could feel that his hair was damp from sweating under the hunk of metal but managed to make eye contact with Cronus, offering a raised eyebrow, "What kind of a conversation?" 

"Wow, you're cute," Roxy laughed aloud, looking over at Dirk, "And what about you? Helmets off, please." Her request was oddly sincere and her tone was polite, causing Dirk to let out a long sigh before copying his brother, a hand brushing through his hair in an attempt to un-stick it from his scalp. "And so are you! No wonder you have John and Jake following you like puppies." 

Both of the Striders kept straight faces, not commenting. 

"Real names?" She requested, extending her hand just like she did the first time. 

"Dirk Strider," Dirk introduced, shaking it solidly once. 

"Dave Strider," Dave mirrored, shaking Cronus's as well. 

"You two have talent," Cronus said immediately, his hands going to the pockets of his dark pants, "And I do believe I've heard your music before. Just on the radio, but for me to truly enjoy something outside of my production is rare." 

Dirk and Dave kept perfectly blank faces, and Roxy gave them a small smile, "Plus,I've been requesting your stuff to Jake's radio station for a good while now," She admitted as well, grasping her hands behind her back, "But from what I could tell, you guys didn't even have a group name!"

"Daft Punk," Dirk verbalized, and Cronus nodded. 

"Good name." 

"Thank Jake for that," Dirk said, and Cronus nearly smirked.

"So," He started, looking between the three blondes, "Daft Punk. Are you two signed with anyone?" 

This caused both of the Striders to look at each other again, keeping a look of total indifference. "No," They responded together, Dave crossing his arms. 

"You two are a lot more expressive when you're robots," Roxy chuckled, "But Cro and I totally had the same idea! We were wondering if you two would be interested in becoming signed with, well, us." 

"Calm down there, Lalonde, that's a bit unorthodox," Cronus reminded, looking between the three of them in the room with dark blue eyes, "But she's right. I'm more than a little interested in listening to more of your music, and if I decide that it's usable material, I would be rather happy to have you two working for Alternia Records." 

"So this is an offer, then?" Dave questioned, and to that Cronus nodded. 

"Can you come down to our offices tomorrow?" He questioned, digging into his pocket and pulling out a wallet, which he promptly slid a card out of and handed over. Dave looked it over once before holding it out to his bro between two fingers and allowing it to promptly get plucked up between Dirk. 

"One moment," Dirk said, his hand closing around the card as he and Dave turned around, ducking their heads together. 

"This is big," Dave started off. 

"But this isn't what I had planned. How long are you expecting me to make music for?" Dirk questioned with a small hiss. 

"Look, dude, you were enjoying yourself out there, fucking face it like a man."

"I may have been enjoying myself, but I didn't think this was going to be a permanent gig." 

"Look, this is a chance. A chance to move out of a shitty ass apartment and to shove good music down the throats of a lot of listeners. Plus, you can keep practicing with your robotics and shit, it seems to be a huge hit. Imagine actually being able to buy new equipment instead of using scraps?"

"Still," He started, and Dave raised a hand.

"Listen. Whenever you want to get out, you can. If you decide you're sick of this, then we'll stop. Deal?" 

Dirk swallowed a little, huffing as he stood up and turned around. "What time?" He asked, and both Cronus and Roxy's mouths split into blinding grins. 

"Glad you asked."

-

One in the morning, and Dave was ready to collapse. After talking through agreements with Roxy and Cronus, and going back up to perform, he was more than happy to accept help with deconstructing their equipment and hauling it to the piece of shit they dared call a car. By the time they'd gotten the last board into the trunk and closed it, Roxy, John, and Jake were all grinning from ear to ear. 

"Thank you," Roxy said, wrapping one arm around each of their necks and pulling them down into a hug, exclamation points flashing, "You really made the night wonderful."

"Of course," Di-Stri admonished, him and Turntech hugging her back in unison. When she let go, she winked, nodding once. 

"Too bad I'll never see you again," She sighed, causing Dave to roll his eyes behind his helmet as she waved, walking back to the club that was still bursting with life. 

"So, suppose this is all over then, chap?" Jake said, ready to step back from the car and walk back to the club when he noticed that Di-Stri had gone completely still. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Turntech and John were talking quietly. "You alright?" 

"I need to thank you," Di-Stri said, his voice sounding borderline confused. 

"Thank me? You just did more than your fair share for what I paid you, and you showed up in the first place, I feel as if I should be the one thanking you," He chuckled, but fell silent when Di-Stri lifted a leather bound hand. 

"No. Really. You've done a lot more than you would have thought. Without you, we may not have even gotten this far. You gave us a chance, and. . . I owe you a lot." It was weird, hearing something that was emotion based come from such an empty voice, but Jake heated up from the tips of his toes, a blush splashing across his features as he waved a hand. 

"Really, it was nothing." It was then that he felt his hand get snatched up, and letting out a startled noise he watched as a pen was pulled from one of the pockets in Di-Stri's jacket, the tip meeting his skin and scrawling out two things; One was a name that he didn't recognize, the other being ten digits. 

"Call me if you need anything," He stated, putting the pen away, "But message me if you don't. Understood?" 

He nodded almost dumbly, looking at his hand and frowning a little bit, "What's timaeus testified?"

"My Pesterchum handle."

"I've never heard of it."

"Well now you have." Saluting with two fingers, he nodded once, turning back to his car. Realizing his conversation was over, Jake blushed brightly and turned around, beginning to head back to the club without another word, but a slight bounce in his step. 

Half way there, he heard a call of, "Jake! Hold up!" Within three seconds, he was joined by John, who was bright eyed and smiling.

"You alright there?" Jake asked, smiling a little, "You look like you're about to flounce off to the moon."

"They're just so cool!" He responded, "And Di-Stri seemed to like you." 

Swallowing, Jake gave a sheepish grin and ran a hand through his hair, "Well actually, I uh. Kinda got his digits."

"No way," John said, looking almost stunned, "I didn't even know you did the guy thing!"

"Oh hush you," He snapped back, turning bright pink, "It's just as friends!"

"Uh huh," John said, nodding and slipping his hands in his pockets, "Still at least you got that. Turntech was so quiet, I- Wait a second." He frowned, his fingers closing around something and finding a small piece of paper, pulling it from his pocket. Looking down at it, his eyebrows raised. "What?"

"What is it?" Jake asked, the two of them reaching the clubs entrance as he looked over his shoulder. 

"I. . . I don't know," John admitted with a frown. Narrowing his eyes, Jake lifted his hand and looked between the two names. 

"It's a Pesterchum name mabob," Jake said. 

"A what?" 

"Pesterchum? It's some sort of chat thing I suppose. And guessing by the name, a certain performer gave you that slip." 

John scoffed, looking at the slip, "Turntech godhead," He read aloud, "How the hell did he even get that into my pocket?" 

"Getting close, were you?" Jake teased, and pushing him, John stuck his tongue out. 

"Shut up, we still have a party to enjoy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to. Thanks for reading!))


	6. Digital Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((The actual title of this should be, "Did last night really even happen?", but I'm really insisting on using Daft Punk song titles. Also! Speaking of titles, the title of this, Digital Love, is a song that goes hand in hand with John's dream (hint hint nudge nudge, reoccurring theme maybe) so listen to that because it's the cutest song in existence and it may or may not (will) appear later ^^ This chapter is short and sweet, hope you like~))

The sun hit Jane's lidded eye dead on the moment she shifted, causing her expression to pinch and her mind to begin sluggishly crawling its way away from the darkness of sleep. She let out a small yawn, about to flip over and stretch her leg out when she realized that both of her arms were full. With what she assumed to be a fairly warm pillow. 

That was until she realized said pillow was doing a touch too much breathing. 

Opening her eyes and being met with a blurry image of a wild head of pale hair, Jane rolled her eyes. Roxy. Of course. Not the first time she'd snuck into her bed. She yawned again, stretching her legs so she could wiggle her toes and reaching out blindly, her fingers brushing against her red rimmed glasses. Jane didn't actually realize she was moving that much until Roxy turned over, snugging into her chest and wrapping her arms around Jane tightly with a mumble of, "Two m're m'nutes."

Jane let out a giggle, shaking her head but remaining quiet. Her arms had to move due to the new shift, one now going under Roxy's neck as the other draped easily over her side. Her friends were moderately ridiculous, each in their own ways, but Roxy was something else entirely. She thought back through the night as she closed her eyes again, relaxing. 

Dancing. A lot of dancing. To very odd, but very good music. 

Everyone enjoyed the food she and John had made, bringing a smile to her face. 

She knew that John and Jake were crashed in the living room, both having been out until about three with tearing down the decorations. 

She also knew that Jake hit on one of the performers, which nearly made her laugh again. 

Mrs. Lalonde had been thrilled with the party. 

Roxy hadn't touched a drop of alcohol and still seemed to have the time of her life. 

And she'd also kissed her. 

As if on cue, Roxy let out a small noise, hiding her face in her neck, "Shhhhhhh," She ordered, and Jane raised an eyebrow. 

"I didn't say anything?" 

"You're thinking as loud as a train, hushhhhh."

"I am not," Jane defended, but let out a small squeak of surprise when her side was pinched lightly with a pink finger-nailed hand. 

"Janie, you're not being a very active cuddler and that is not conducive to my want to sleep in." 

"So you wanted to cuddle then?" 

"Of course I want to cuddle, cuddling is awesome and warm, and I am perfectly cuddle sized just for your convenience," She responded, waking up a bit more and stretching her arms out along with her legs before sinking back against her friend, "So what were you thinking about?" 

"Last night," Jane said honestly, and it was then that Roxy pulled back, wearing a noted absence of any eye makeup or dark lipstick, yet her lips were pulled up into a signature smirk. 

"It was pretty great," She promised, closing her eyes again as she relaxed against the pillow, "I don't know if I've said thank you enough, but thank you thank you thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou." 

"Shoosh," Jane laughed, blushing brightly and lifting a hand to pat Roxy's face, "You're welcome. You've said it enough." 

"And showed it?" Roxy asked through another yawn, cracking open an eye and allowing her pink gaze to fall on a cyan one as she smiled wider, wiggling her eyebrows. 

"You-" Jane frowned for a moment before sitting up, lifting a pillow and hitting Roxy with it and earning a squeal of laughter, "You did that just to mess with me!"

"Nuh uh!" Roxy laughed, covering her mouth as she laughed while Jane continued to hit her with a pillow, "I did it because I felt like it!"

"Roxy!" Jane responded, beginning to smile just a little as well as she hit her again. 

"Because I wanted to?" 

"Why is it a question?!" Another hit, this one a little lighter and a lot of laughter staining Jane's firm tone. 

"Don't hate me for loving you!" Roxy was hit again before sighing dramatically, avoiding another hit with the pillow by tackling Jane, earning another yell before they both dissolved into giggles. 

-

Jake's own snoring ended up being an alarm clock on its own. The Brit started awake after a sound comparable to an engine rang through his ears, the world far lighter than when he went to sleep. He adjusted himself on the couch so his head wasn't nearly hanging off the edge and rested his temple against the arm of the sofa, taking in a deep breath. From the other room, he could hear the girls talking, but couldn't for the life of him make out what they were saying. 

Laughter, maybe? Who knew. Rolling his shoulders, he scratched at his jaw idly, feeling stubble beginning to grow from a mere day of not shaving. He then remembered something and looked down at his hand, flipping it over to look at the back. 

'timaeusTestified' was written in black pen and hasty scrawl, and staring at it he smiled a little. He'd made a friend. A very talented friend who made wonderful music. Something about the fact about the sentence, 'Call me if you need anything, message me if you don't' made his chest feel odd, however, and dickens if he couldn't figure out if that was good or bad. He'd been worried for most of the night that he'd been a total burden, hanging on his shoulder and taking up so much of their, Di-Stri's in particular, free time. But he'd gotten a thank you instead. 

He looked back at his hand. 

Smiling a little, he grabbed his phone, blinking against the brightness it provided and tapping a name into the app store. When he found what he was looking for, he pressed 'Download' and dropped his phone back to the coffee table, closing his eyes again. 

He was already snoring by the time his phone gave him the notification, telling him his download of 'Pesterchum' was complete. 

-

John's dream was blurry and bright. 

It was the club. Oh! Deuces. He was dancing, but it was like he was watching from a camera. He could see himself, in a third person view, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't make out the person he was dancing with. The music sounded weird and far away, but he was smiling. He felt and looked happy. The moment he smiled wider, the person became clear.

It was a guy. The one from Wal-Mart, the one he crashed into. The guy with the gloves and the sun glasses. 

The music got louder, and suddenly the crowd pushed them in, forcing them to dance closer. 

Well. . . 'Forcing' is such a strong word. And John actually felt surprise when his arms wound around the practical strangers waist, the solemn looking guy actually smiling a little. 

Suddenly an exclamation mark appeared over the blonde guys head (What had his name been?), just like white one on Turntech's helmet, and he lifted his hands, both bound in leather in almost a surrendering position. Something was familiar here. John was squinting in thought at this, his brow furrowing. His face felt warmer and warmer. 

His eyes opened to the sight and feeling of a sun beam, which was directly on his face. He frowned a little, shuffling on his knees and slumping in a different spot on the floor and with him dragging the blanket that had been thrown over him at some point during the morning, presumably by one of the girls who was walking around the kitchen. He hid behind the couch, from the direct line of sunlight pouring through Jane's living room window. What a weird dream. 

He yawned again, rubbing his feet together a little before putting his cheek on top of his hands, beginning to fall back asleep. His dream was mostly forgotten at that point anyways, and he smiled a little, relaxing as he drifted back off. 

\- 

 

Bro,

Got a record deal. Probably. Also got paid. Wake us by three, we've got a date with Alt. Records.

Dirk + Dave

PS, make it rain heres your cut

 

Bro looked at the fridge with narrowed eyes, following the small red arrow drawn and looking at the magnet that it leaded to, a Bratz Doll one that they'd gotten in a box of cereal years ago. Underneath it were a bunch of bills all fanned out, and plucking them up he flicked through them. 

. . . 17, 18, 19, 20. 

Two thousand bucks. 

Why the fuck was he getting a cut? 

Looking back at the note, he took it off the fridge, flipping it over in search of an explanation. Finding none, he just glanced at the hallway that both of the boys were sleeping down before shrugging, taking out his wallet and slipping the money inside. Two thousand bucks, a few days of silence and no needed trips? 

Seemed like the start to a fucking killer weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to. Thanks for reading!))


	7. Instant Crush

"Okay seriously, with the phone again? You haven't gotten off that thing all fucking morning," Dave huffed, the elevator beginning to go up to the thirteenth floor. 

"Alright mom, while I'm at it should I begin eating my vegetables and cut back on the tv watching?" Dirk volleyed right back, sending one final message before putting his phone away. Bro had woken them at noon, the asshole, but with four pizzas and video games already set up and ready to play. That made up for it, in a way. But while Dave and Bro were brawling it out on Left 4 Dead, Dirk was stuffing his face and keeping intense eye contact with his phone, constantly fiddling with it or typing. 

Dave was guessing he'd giving his Pesterhandle to Jake just like he'd given his to John, but Dave wasn't acting like a love sick prepubescent idiot about it. For all he knew they were actually talking instead of him just waiting for Jake to get a Pesterchum, but when it got to the point that Dave had to drive because Dirk was too busy texting, something had to be said. 

The door opened before Dave could respond, the two of them being let out into a rather large walk way and a wrap around, cherrywood desk. A head was barely peaking over the side until the person sat up fully, noticing the two of them approaching.

"Welcome to Alternia Records, do you have an appointment?" Large green eyes looked up at Dave and Dirk, the boy sporting them wearing well groomed brown hair and a white, long sleeved shirt paired with a formal red jacket. He looked like he fit in perfectly with his surroundings.

Fit in, of course meaning, he looked as if he were ripped off a television set. AKA, Alternia Records was, in essence, the shit. It was in one of the high rise building in downtown Houston, the inside being mostly golden and deep browns and way nicer and more formal than either Dave nor Dirk had thought it would be. 

"Actually-" Dirk started, "We-"

"Kanny, stop being so formal," A voice from behind said, and Dave could practically see the lines of annoyance scratch themselves into the receptionists face. Cronus, of course was out of his office in a mere moment to greet them, his hands in his back pockets and a smile on his face. "Dave, Dirk, wonderful to see you. This is my assistant, Kankri, and I'm gonna apologize right now on how much he talks."

"Pleasure," Kankri offered, glaring at Cronus through the corner of his eye before reaching a hand out. 

"I'm Dave, and this is Dirk," Dave introduced, shaking the guys hand before Kankri stood from behind his desk, gathering up a few different folders. 

"The Striders, I'd imagine?" He responded, and behind their shades Dirk and Dave shared a look, "Cronus called me last night, before and after he talked to you. Had me gather a few of your samples from your air time on what appeared to be several different Texan stations. You two seem to be quite a hit."

"I needed to listen to more of your music a bit more thoroughly," Cronus defended, while Kankri walked out from behind the counter, holding the files in hand against his chest. 

"Yes, and by that he means he wanted to make me suffer by staying up far later than I originally intended," Kankri clarified, brushing past Cronus easily (the height difference was at least half a foot and even being far shorter Kankri seemed to dismiss his boss as an adult would a child) and beginning to lead away from the entrance of the floor. "If you'd follow me, we can sit down and have a proper discussion about a foreseeable record deal." 

"There's a problem with this," Cronus said, causing all three of the men in the room to stop and look at him, "I told you you may want a lawyer with you."

"Didn't have one," Dave responded curtly. 

"Well if you wanna get one before we get started, we can postpone-" 

"Will we need one?" 

"If you wanna negotiate anything, then probably, but-" Kankri was the one interrupted this time by Dirk. 

"We'll take what you give us," Dirk clarified, and Kankri looked down at the papers in his hands with a furrowed brow. 

Beginning to walk back down the hallway and leading the group with him, Kankri frowned a little, "Perhaps we should re-go over what were were willing to offer."

"Kan, you're taking all the fun out of this," Cronus huffed, following behind and leaning over his shoulder and trying to purposefully be a bother. 

"That's Kankri to you," He responded, looking straight forward. From behind, Dirk and Dave watched with slight interest, though they didn't give a hint that they cared in the slightest.

"Kanny." 

"Kankri." 

"Kan the man?" 

"Kan. Kri."

"Kanny with a nice-" Cronus nearly doubled over as an elbow expertly hit his stomach, Kankri looking completely uninterested as he stopped in the hallway, opening up a door and holding it. 

"If you'll just step in," He said pleasantly to the Striders, both of whom were watching as Cronus straightened back up with a watery expression. 

Dave decided this Kankri guy wasn't all that bad. 

They stepped in, and from the corner of his shades Dirk watched Kankri tangle a hand in the front of Cronus's shirt, pulling him down to speak quickly and quietly, "Such allegations about my figure and my body are extraordinarily triggering, especially in a work place and I would appreciate if you would give some sort of warning before acting on such urges to speak out of turn or act otherwise unprofessional in our place of employ, understood?" 

"You're cute when you get bossy," Was the response. 

The door was closed in his face as Kankri moved smoothly, taping the papers so they were all in alignment before sitting down, a burnt out looking Cronus making his way into the room and sitting down as well. 

"It's just you two then?" Cronus asked, looking between the two of them, "You don't even have a manager." 

"Do we really need one?" Dave asked. 

"It's heavily preferred," Kankri clarified, and within a moment Dirk had his phone out, sending a message. The room was silent for about nearly a full minute before a loud ping emanated, and Dirk gave a shrug. 

"We have a manager now. Why is it important?" 

"Well typically managers like to be present during the meetings, are you sure you don't want them to come down here?"

"They're busy," The taller of the two articulated, "Just continue." 

"Well we did think to start your royalties out at about thirteen percent, meaning you'd get a thirteen percent cut of every CD or album sold. Mind you that this is a rather good deal, considering that most starting out artists only get ten." 

"Go on." 

"As well as the fact that we would like to start recording the songs you have professionally in our own sound booths, meaning that you would be able to bring your own equipment or equipment will be provided for you. About the helmets-" Kankri started, but Dirk shook his head. 

"The helmets stay." 

"This contract will give us full rights to your career, you realize this correct?" 

"Meaning you can choose if we want to stay anonymous or not?" Dave questioned. 

"You mean to stay completely anonymous?" Kankri asked. 

Dirk leaned back in his chair, "That was kind of the plan." 

Cronus leaned forward, looking at the two of them with a smirk and narrowed eyes, "Lemme get this straight. Two robots, who have no human presence, making music without a single guitar, drum beat or string?"

"Is that a problem?" Dave raised an eyebrow over the edge of his shades. 

"The opposite," Cronus responded, grabbing the contract from Kankri's hand, "Boys it looks like this may need a few adjustments." 

 

-

 

Jake was sitting on Jane's living room sofa, both her and Roxy in the kitchen making an extremely late lunch or a very early dinner when Jake made a conflicted sort of pained noise in the back of his throat. 

"Jane!" He called out, and a few seconds later Jane was walking out of the kitchen, looking at him. 

"What is it?" She asked, wiping her hands on her apron. 

"I-" Jake swallowed, his brow furrowing. "I added Di-Stri on Pesterchum."

"Pesterchum? That site hasn't been used in years, at least not by the public," She chuckled, shrugging as she walked over to him, "What happened? Did he say something?" 

"He's said a few things, actually. We've been chatting all morning and he's bloody ridiculous, but he told me he had something he needed to take care of some buffoonery, and he didn't say anything for ten minutes and suddenly-" Holding the phone up to her, she adjusted her glasses and held the screen about a foot away, reading the bright orange words on the screen. 

 

TT: Jake, I need your help with something. Think you could be Daft Punk's manager? Try to respond as soon as fucking possible, Cronus is staring. 

 

And even more surprising was the response below it. 

 

GT: Id love to!

 

"What in the world, Jake?!"

"Oooh, how did he mess up this time?" Roxy asked from the kitchen, poking her head out of the doorway with an interested expression. 

"He agreed to be those boy's band manager!"

"Seriously?!" Roxy was across the apartment in a mere second, dive bombing onto the couch and nearly flattening Jake in the process before sitting up, smooshing his face between her hands, "That means we can work with them together!"

"Wot?" He asked, his eyebrow raising as he made a puffer fish face against his will. 

"Oh wait, didn't I mention?" She asked, looking between them, "Cronus and I are signing them. Well, Cro is, it's my day off." 

"Wait," He pulled his face from between Roxy's hands, "So I'm not completely in the wrong here?" 

"Jake you met them a day ago!" Jane countered, shaking her head, "You don't even know how to manage a band! You'd have to learn, and they'd have to learn with you. How can you agree with that big of a commitment to someone you just met?"

"Google exists for a reason and it can't be that hard! Plus, I've been playing their music for months, and Di-Stri seems very reliable."

"There are two people in the band! I know you're head over heels for this guy," Jake opened his mouth to defend himself, but she raised a hand, "but you need to remember that you're now going to be taking care of Turntech as well." 

From behind the couch, there was a mumbling groan, and Roxy nearly giggled. "It's like a Pavlov response, oh my god. You say Turntech and John responds." 

"I heard m' name," A tired voice mumbled, and a head popped up behind the back of the couch and John blinking tiredly, his forearms going over it to hold him up. 

"Tell your cousin that he needs to think this through; He just accepted a job as Daft Punk's band manager." 

"Oh my god, seriously?" John asked, waking up and looking at Jake, "You get to work with them? Duuuude, that's so cool!"

"That means you get to come down to Alternia once in a while, Jake!" Roxy squealed, clapping her hands, "This is amazing!"

"Wait, Alternia?" John frowned for a minute, sleep clogging the cogs of though before it finally clicked, "They work for Alternia Records now?!" 

Jane sighed as Roxy began chattering about the night before, covering her face with one hand. This may be a terrible idea. 

". . . So after you two left, we got them into the back room and had a little one on one conversation! It's great, but they're so straight faced!"

"You saw them without the helmets?" John asked, standing up and leaning on the couch at this point. 

"I didn't say that," Roxy said, and Jake looked at her with narrowed eyes. 

"You nefarious bozo, you did too!"

"So?" She questioned, and both boys seemingly honed in at once. 

"What did they look like?" They asked in near unison, and Jane let out a surprised noise as she was pulled onto Roxy's lap, the blonde hiding her face in her shoulder. 

"Save me Jane, they're ganging up." 

"Oh come on!"

"Just tell us!"

"Both of you hush!" Jane ordered, feeling Roxy smile against her shoulder and very nearly rolling her eyes, "They obviously want to keep it secret and the only reason Roxy saw is because she's going to be one of their producers, now Jake, think out your replies before you send them and be careful! He's still a stranger."

"John got Turntech's Pesterchum name as well," Jake pointed out, and Jane looked at her little brother before giving an exasperated sigh. 

"Did you just tattle on me?" John asked in the most disbelieving tone he'd possibly ever used, "Oh my god, what are you, five?" 

"If I'm going down I'm dragging you with me chump."

"You dick!" John started as Jane clenched her hand into a fist by her side.

"Enough!" She said loudly, looking between the two of them, "If you two trust them, then do what you want but until then, be a little cautious, got it?" She asked, and both of them nodded earnestly. 

"Trust me Janie, they're on the DL. They're both the silent type, but they're good people," Roxy promised, propping her chin up on Jane's shoulder as both Jake and John immediately went for their phones. 

"I really hope so," Jane sighed, and Roxy gave her a small squeeze, forcing her to provide a small smile. From next to her, she heard John ask if there was a Pesterchum app, and Jane heaved another sigh as Roxy laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to. Thanks for reading!))


	8. Fresh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Wow, I think this is the latest that I've updated and it's been like two days. I am lame. Point being! I am going to be away from the internet for a few days, so sorry in advance if it's a few days until my next update ^^ I hope you like the chapter and lots of love to all of the people who have left kudos, comments, or even read this!))

The front door of the apartment opened as Bro started the fall section of The Last of Us, forcing the horse, Callus, to run as the main characters Joel and Ellie made idle banter while walking around the college campus on screen. He'd been playing since Dirk and Dave had left, and at eight o'clock he'd finally managed to get passed the summer section of the game, now relaxing and eating Doritos when he could.

It was honestly weird, not having noise somewhere in the house. The more he thought about it the more Bro realized that they practically never left, unless to get records on Dave's part or spare parts on Dirk's. Part of him wondered if he should have forced them both to sign up for a few colleges or something, maybe make them join some stupid ass clubs just to get them more adjusted to, well, people.

It was then that he remembered that they were in a band where they dressed like robots.

God fucking damn it.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the front door opening and closing, silence filling the apartment as the horse whinnied on screen.

Hearing the lack of speaking that usually came with his brothers upon entering the apartment, Bro didn't even bother to look away from the television, "If you're here to rob the place, someone is already in here and they'll kill you before you can get your sorry ass to scramble out the front door, so there's your warning."

"Wow, that's how you talk to intruders?" Dave asked through a mouthful of food, both him and Dirk making their way into the room. They were both in the middle of eating what looked like burritos, which solved the whole silence mystery. Dirk immediately tossed a bag to Bro, which contained four soft shell tacos and two churros. "You're not supposed to talk to them at all, you attack first and ask questions later."

He'd raised those boys right.

"So? Did you get into the label or just beat around the bush?" He asked, pausing his game and looking between the two of them as he made a grab for the tacos.

"I hate to tell you this Bro, but it looks like we're not gonna be here all that often," Dirk sighed, taking another bite of his burrito and speaking with puffed out and filled cheeks, "Because we've got a fuckin record deal."

"For real?" He asked, his brow furrowing a little as he looked between them for some sign that they were lying. Dave just shrugged, balling up the wrapper for his burrito and throwing it in the air before hitting it with his palm, directly into the overflowing trash bin.

"Why the fuck would we joke about something like that? What do you take us for, lying hooligans and ruffians? I'm wounded Bro," Dave said, a hand going to splay dramatically over his heart, "It almost makes me wanna take back the absolute bank we left you on the fridge this morning."

"Yeah, about that," Bro said, looking between them, "Why did I get a cut exactly?"

"Think if it as payment for rent or some shit. You just deserved it," Dirk said, to which Bro promptly pulled out his wallet. "What the fuck are you doing?"

His fingers moved quickly as he plucked out the same twenty bills as before, putting them on the coffee table and putting his wallet down as well before going back to his food. "I"m not taking money for rent, assholes."

"Then take it for strifing lessons or something, just take it." It was Dave speaking now, his expression very nearly confused.

"Guardians don't take payment," Bro responded, picking back up his controller and going back to playing, making Joel get off the horse and pick up a flame thrower.

"Well then take it is a brother."

"Nah."

"Nah? You're turning down two thousand bucks with a 'nah'?"

"Don't want it. I haven't done shit to earn it, this was all you two," He said, dropping his taco and plucking up a churro as he used one hand to play.

"But-"

"But nothing. Kids don't pay their parents for living under their roof, period. I'm not making you two pay me for living under mine."

There was silence for a moment before Dirk and Dave looked at each other and provided a shrug. "Fine," They said in unison.

The rest of the night passed without much happening, besides each of the boys earning a pat on the back and a few beers between brothers.

The fact that Bro woke up with an extremely nice and extremely sharp sword resting on his night stand the next morning was enough of an answer, the card being simple:

 

we made a better investment than you would have so here asshole enjoy your two thousand

Dirk & Dave

 

And of course this caused him to wake them both up simply to test it out in a strife.

He'd definitely raised those boys right.

 

-

 

"Alright, first things first, how long are you two going to be wearing those?" Jake asked as he sat down, relaxing against his own sofa in his single room apartment as he looked at the two robots across from him.

After being requested as their manager, Jake had invited Di-Stri and Turntech over for a meeting, a sort of one on one if you would. Until that is, he opened the door and was met with two pale robots with their hands in their pockets.

Turntech was sporting a broken record on his shirt with long red sleeves while Di-Stri wore an orange hat on his white tee shirt and both wearing their ridiculous helmets which looked completely out of place with their civilian clothing.

The greeting he'd received? "Sup."

They'd walked in after that without a single care, and Jake was lost at the proper ettiquette to use. He couldn't even offer them a drink, for petes sake!

"Yeah, we're gonna wear them. Part of the whole anonymity thing," Di-Stri sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in the armchair he'd occupied as soon as he'd walked in.

"But I'm your manager!" He defended, "I should get to know who I'm managing, confound it!"

"We've talked to you twice, and you seem great and all," Turntech deadpanned, his face giving a large check mark, "But we can't just go around trusting everyone, even our manager. At least not for a while." The check mark turned into a large red x.

"Holy Toledo you two are really serious about this endeavor, aren't you?" He looked between the two of them, "Keeping everyone in the world in the dark about who you really are?"

"Was the record deal not enough of a hint?" Di-Stri asked, and even if his voice was sarcastic he still gained question marks on his screens.

Jake rolled his eyes at that, "Well as your acting manager, you lot should consider yourselves lucky that I'm rather close with Roxy. It'll make negotiating live shows and people booking you a lot bloody easier than trying to contact your contract holders every other hour. Speaking of that, I do believe that you should post some of your content on the internet."

"Why?" Di-Stri questioned as Turntech's helmet flashed an exclamation point.

"It's a wonderful idea to get you two known! Because let's face it, you two could go positively viral within a few days."

"What makes you say that?"

"You've seen your affect on Houston, Dallas, Austin. You two hold the highest charted songs available right now in this state alone. And that's just one state. Imagine it being available to the whole world!"

Turntech gave a hum as Di-Stri thought for a moment on it.

"We'll do it," The gold robot agreed, and the sliver one turned his head to look at his bother with a tilted head. "What?" He responded, "The man's got a point. It's good publicity."

"Well then I'll need full tapes of your music, and I suppose Youtube is probably the best place to start. . . ." Jake worried his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment before he grinned. "John!"

"John?" Turntech questioned, and for a reason unknown to Jake, Di-Stri began chuckling.

"I can outsource him! He's good with the internet I think but boy howdy does he have a lot of computer friends. I'm sure he could get them to help."

"So he'll be our little online division then?" The question came from Turntech, and Jake offered a happy nod.

"I'll take care of the events and you two getting booked for jobs, and he can be in charge of online feedback. I'm sure he'd agree, by golly, he was rather enamored with you by the end of it all a few days back."

Turntech's screen went completely red, and it was then that Jake finally realized what that meant. He'd said something rather flattering, and the response being a red screen was comparable to something that he did often enough; It was a blush.

That was a blush? Suddenly his conversations with Di-Stri were put into perspective, and in turn he couldn't help but blush as well. "I mean- Uh. . ."

"So, internet and ground covered. I guess this means you'll be covering the airways as well seeing as you're already a DJ?" Di-Stri directed the conversation a different route, which lucky Jake was more than happy to hop on with, watching the pointed screens on the sliver robot with a new sort of fascination.

Only now every time they went red during the duration of their three hour long talk, Jake would blush as well, often enough that Turntech began giving them flack for it within the first forty five minutes.

-

It'd been less than a day since he'd added Turntech on Pesterchum, and already John was more than happy to have downloaded the outdated app.

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:23 --

 

TG: so im sure jakes already asked you  
TG: but in case he hasnt would you wanna be the daft punk online division?  
TG: your job would be to get our shit out to the people who are glued to their computer screens  
TG: kinda shitty pay aka none  
TG: and were pretty fucking awful about work hours  
TG: but i have a totally killer ass that you have full access to  
TG: these buns of steel  
TG: and screws and shit considering that i am totally a fucking robot but not the point  
TG: point is get back to me at some point  
TG: ps i think your cousin is trying to bone my brother  
TG: send help and a lot of condoms to him asap

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:25 --

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:25 --

 

TG: quick food for the thought would they use lube or grease?  
TG: you know since di is a robot too  
TG: fuck wait thats a horrible mental image  
TG: abort abort  
TG: or wait fuck  
TG: error

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:27 --

 

John nearly burst out laughing in the middle of his lecture hall.

 

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 15:29 --

 

EB: send me some sound samples and i'll see what i can do!

TG: oh shit youre actually online  
TG: and here i was ready to ditch you already  
TG: i am not holding up my end of this relationship im sorry bae take me back

EB: oh my god you're the weirdest robot i've ever met.

TG: meet a lot of robots do you then?  
TG: i'm just a dime a dozen?  
TG: totally replacable?  
TG: i hear what youre saying and damn john i thought we had something special

EB: i never said anything like that!

TG: [da_funk.mp3]  
TG: there that has the nine songs weve done so far  
TG: hopefully they dont sound like every other robot  
TG: just another hunk of metal to you huh

EB: what?! i never even said that!

TG: i cant take this heart break anymore  
TG: im sorry

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:40 --

 

EB: oh my god what just happened?

 

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 15:40 --

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:42 --

 

TG: by the way  
TG: thanks for helping out

EB: any time!

TG: well if you mean any time then i may use you for free labor more often  
TG: or just bug you all the time  
TG: whichever sounds better  
TG: later

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:44 --

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to. Thanks for reading!))


	9. Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Whoo, hello friends ^^ I'm actually back on a device that was made for typing! Anyways, here's a cute little snippet and I want to give fair warning that next chapter things start to pick up a little more ^^ Enjoy and thanks for reading!))

"And tell me again why we're helping with thith?" Sollux questioned, sorting through the soundtracks that John had forwarded from Turntech with a nearly bored expression. His bitten fingernails made a small clicking noise as they tapped at the coffee table idly out of boredom.

"Because! They're a really cool band not to mention that Turntech's a friend," John defended, frowning as he tried to find something that would work as cover art. His laptop was set up next to Sollux's on the coffee table as they leaned against the couch, the both of them currently camped out in John's living room with the audience of Jade and Karkat.

"You met him once, you over dramatic shit-stain," Karkat pointed out, but Jade just pushed a fingertip against his shoulder with narrowed eyes.

"Shush, they're nice boys, Rose and I met them too! Plus it's not like he's asking for anything that drastic! They just need some stuff uploaded to Youtube and spread around a little." Her smile was bright against tanned skin as she began braiding a strip of long black hair.

"Remind me why you're even here, Harley?" Karkat deadpanned, turning his head to look her in the eye.

"I live here! Why are you here?"

"Tho let me get thith thraight," Sollux interrupted loudly, stopping the loud brunette on the couch from giving Jade harsh retort, "you dragged me all the way from down the hall while I wath in the middle of a killer round on Titanfall to help you upload thome shit to Youtube?" Sollux asked, looking over at John with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you know something that would work better?" John asked, frowning as he sat back a little.

Karkat and Sollux were both in the same year as Rose, Jade and him and were exactly four doors down. John had met them when he accidentally stepped on a box during 'Moving Day' and shattered Karkat's copy of Failure to Launch, which caused him to buy a new copy as a sad excuse of an introduction to the neighbors after getting chewed out completely by Karkat.

John could see past the harsh exterior in a flash, causing him to form a friendship with both Karkat and Sollux easily.

It was weird that all of them were even considered friends: Karkat and Sollux weren't the most social of people as it was. Karkat had grown up just around his older brother who'd left the house for college when Karkat was only eleven, John had found out. After that, he mainly stuck to movie watching and avoiding people at all costs, bar school. And even then, school pissed him off more than being alone.

His older brother now worked at the same place that Rose's sister did, something they'd figured out the day before when Rose was with them. She mentioned that Roxy and Kankri were taking care of a lot of the contract agreements for Daft Punk, the band that John hadn't shut up for days over, which caused Karkat to go on a twenty minute rant the moment she mentioned his brothers name. John's favorite line that Karkat had spewed out during said rant had been, "That limp sack of sniffling discharge and fluids can manage to sign up two fucking robots for a record deal but his stubby little paws couldn't be fucking bothered to scrape together enough brain cells to type out a number and call once in a while?!"

Sollux was even less exposed to contact than Karkat. He'd spent a lot of his time taking care of his father who'd been sick for a majority of his growing up. But he'd also been homeschooled by the same man, meaning he rarely got contact with people his age to begin with.

Apparently that time alone had led him to be good at two things; Computers and gaming. He was currently teaching Karkat a thing or two about programming computers and coding, but from the fights that burst out and rang down the hall at two AM, it wasn't going well. The two of them had been stuffed together as roommates and even with how much they argued, were damn near inseparable.

So of course the moment that Turntech had messaged him, John had of course recruited Sollux for helping him get Daft Punk on the radar online.

Now there were just two problems.

One, none of them had existing accounts on any music site, so it's not like they'd reach a wide variety of people and two, Daft Punk hadn't supplied any cover art for the albums.

"Well," Sollux said, pausing for a moment before the grin on his face turned damn near devilish, "I gueth I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?" Karkat asked, eyes narrowing as he looked at the blonde.

"A fun one?" He countered, glaring at Karkat over his shoulder.

"An illegal one, what the fuck are you planning?" Karkat sat up a little more, watching Sollux behind his shoulder as John looked up from his computer.

"It'th not illegal," Sollux defended, his fingers beginning to fly as he pressed four different buttons at the same time, bringing up a large black screen filled with a random jumble of text. Sollux began fixing the wall of coding, Karkat sliding down to the floor to sit next to him before the two of them began mumbling to each other.

"John!" Jade pipped up, dragging his attention away from the computer in front of the coding boy and up to Jade herself, who was holding out her phone, "Rose said she talked to Roxy about the fact that there wasn't a cover album, and she managed to get a design from Turntech himself!"

John plucked up the phone and squinted, adjusting his glasses a little before finally the picture came into focus. The name 'Daft Punk' was scrawled in bright red, and embarrassingly enough John recognized it as Turntech's handwriting, just like the little slip of paper he'd slipped to him that had his chumhandle on it. It was outlined in white on a black background, and had purple wisps going through it. "Can you send this to my email?" He asked.

"Already have," She replied happily, taking her phone back as John went to his own computer.

"Thend that to me," Sollux requested, his tongue between his teeth just slightly as he tapped out a few more lines of what looked like total nonsense.

"Can do, if I can remember how," John joked with a smile, pulling up his email and letting out a disgruntled noise when Karkat leaned over Sollux, taking John's entire computer. Entering Sollux's email before attaching the picture for him, Karkat looked completely unamused, handing the computer back with a bored expression. "I was kidding," John said with a flat brow, and Karkat rolled his eyes.

"Finished," Sollux interrupted, his lisp not taking the word over as he leaned back. Looking over, John frowned as Sollux uploaded all nine videos, each with the same album art that he'd just received in his inbox.

"I don't get it," He stated, causing Sollux to look up at him, "What did you do exactly?"

"Go to Youtube on your computer." It was an order that John had no problem following, but his eyes went slightly wide as it pulled up.

There, in a perfect row were all nine videos under the 'Popular' section as well as the 'Music' section. Turning to look at the blonde who was wearing an extremely smug expression, John went wide eyed. "You re-coded Youtube?!"

"Should I do Thoundcloud too, or. . . ?" He started, getting swatted lightly on the back of his head by Karkat.

"I thought 'no illegal' shit was pretty heavily fucking implied here," Karkat huffed, but Sollux let out a laugh instead of a defense.

 

-

 

"Cronus?" Kankri made his way to his office with his laptop held against his chest, a hand making sure to knock at the door before stepping across the threshold.

"Yes?" Cronus asked, a hand going to his face and taking off the glasses he'd been wearing as quickly as possible. Unfortunately enough, it wasn't fast enough for Kankri not to see it, and the shorter of the two couldn't help but smile slightly as he stepped in fully. The fact that Cronus wore glasses was slightly endearing in way, but that didn't take away from the fact that a majority of Cronus was extraordinarily crass and forward as well.

"Do you have a moment?" He questioned, closing the door behind him. The rest of the staff on floor thirteen had already made it's way home for the night, the clock reading eleven as the last two employees playing catch up. Or, had been before Kankri noticed something rather amazing while going through his last minute emails before heading home for the night.

"'Course, come on in." He sat up a bit, watching as Kankri crossed across the office space and set his computer down, opening it up and beginning to flip through several different tabs.

"Look at this," Kakri said, flipping between a few tabs on Youtube, "Mr. English contacted Roxy and I making the query on if he could post some of the music that Daft Punk has produced online. As part of their contract, the Striders do still have liberty with their own music, so of course I allowed it. but this-" Switching to another tab, "All nine of their most recent songs that they wanted on the same album were uploaded at the same time by a source that I'm finding it fair to assume English hired. However these are the only videos the source had loaded, having no previous subscribers."

"What's your point, doll?" Cronus asked, slipping on his glasses to look at the screen a bit clearer.

"The point is now they've just reached twenty thousands subscribers in under twenty four hours and their total view count for their songs is just around two hundred thousand per track."

"You're kiddin'," He awed, his jaw hanging down just a touch as he began to flip through different tabs.

"I don't know how they managed to get their videos so obviously seen, but they did. Nearly every comment has been wondering who these two are, seeing as this uploader, 'Twins' provided the information that there was two musicians. He also responded that they were signed with us, and I've received more than one email with people curious to learn more about them." Sighing and standing up, Kankri crossed his arms over his chest, "All in all, they seem to be, as you would say, a hit."

"You know what this means, right?" Cronus asked, sliding his glasses up to his hair and leaning back into his chair.

"That you're going to make your point along with a statement littered with innuendos and crude statements regarding things that you shouldn't be mentioning in any circumstance?" Kankri guessed.

Cronus rolled his eyes at that, "It means we've gotta expose 'Turntech' and 'Di-Stri' to the public a little bit. Let people fall in love with a pair of cute little robots who make music, get them known."

"You honestly think so?" Kankri asked, leaning his hip on Cronus' desk as he thought about it.

"Publicity is key in selling, and in this industry I they're already getting noticed, it seems like a good thing to jump in. We'll have to work on it more in the morning, but for right now I'm going home." It was then that he leaned over, closing the laptop and standing, "Speaking of jumping in, do you-"

"Cronus I respect you as my boss but if you decide that you really need to finish that statement with something relating to me in any lewd way, I can promise you-"

A finger met his lips, causing Kankri to start and look up, "I was going to say you could jump in my car and I'll give you a ride home."

"Wh't?" Kankri mumbled, actually looking surprised.

"Well it seemed like the right thing to do, seeing as you're working so late and seeing as the bus that goes by here isn't going to make another trip 'round for the next hour." The room was silent for a moment as Cronus raised an eyebrow, and Kankri had just enough time to mentally note how ridiculous he looked with his hair pushed down by the weight of his glasses.

Kankri grabbed his wrist, moving his hand away politely to free up his mouth to speak, "How would you know that?"

"System hasn't changed in the past ten years, and not since I used to have to take it," He shrugged, smirking a little, "Plus your bus pass is sticking out of your pocket."

Kankri looked down, noticing that it was nearly hanging out of the front pocket of his black pants and it was then Cronus wiggled his fingers at that point, bringing attention to the fact that Kankri was still holding onto him. This caused the shorter one of the two to blush the same shade of red as his undershirt that day.

"I suppose that's an acceptable offer," He said, dropping Cronus's hand and grabbing his laptop while tucking his bus pass down once more, hiding it from view, ". . . Thank you."

"Any time," Cronus assured, saving his work and turning off his own computer before stretching a touch, slipping on the leather jacket that was draped over the back of his chair, "Anything for the finest ass in the office."

"Cronus!"

A laugh rang through the empty floor, along with a resound sound of an open palm hitting the leather arm of his jacket and the beginning to an extremely thorough scolding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to.))


	10. Revolution 909

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Jake's an idiot and so is Dirk))

When Dirk and Dave had been called down to Cronus's office the next day, they expected to drop off a music sample and ditch. 

This was not what Cronus had in mind, apparently, seeing as he offered up the dumbest idea in history the moment they stepped into his office. 

"A tour? You're joking right? We don't even have a finished album, let alone enough fans to tour and actually buy our tickets," Dave said, dropping the CD containing their most recent works on Cronus's desk. Sure it had been two weeks since they'd last been up to his office, but he didn't think the absence would make Cronus start getting extremely stupid ideas. 

The tall man leaned back in his chair, looking between the two of them with an unaumused expression, "Look I'm saying as your producer it would be a good idea. Put you in a few clubs right next to some of the really crowded colleges on a Friday night all around Texas? You'll be booked up. The next town close by you get to, you pop a poster up and, you'll already be gettin' a little recognition because media rules the nation and someone'll recognize you from the last place you performed. Lather, rinse repeat and you've got a little popularity on your hands." 

"I thought the main reason for posting our shit online was so we could get out of Texas? Reach other people?" Dave questioned. 

"And you've gotta move one thing at a time," Cronus said, sitting up a little and lacing his fingers together, leaning on his desk with his forearms, "Listen, chief. You guys are already a hit on Youtube for a few weeks now, and I don't know how the hell you got so many views in sucha short time. Really, I should be sendin' John and his friends a little goodie basket because they did stellar work. But you've gotta work the area that you're in right now, otherwise you've got no solid connections or reputation. People who saw you in Deuces dug you, but there weren't many people there. You need to get your two faces out there." Looking between them, he waved his hand lightly, "Or masks, whatever. People will more than dig the whole robot act."

"So what, we get Jake to set us up in these places, and then what? We have no merch to sell, not a single album and we'd be unheard of by most," Dirk challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Cronus paused before looking down, plucking up the disk that Dave had just dropped on his desk before picking it up, waving it. "Mind if I take a listen?"

"That doesn't answer my-" 

They were shooed out of the room as Cronus grinned, and quickly offered refreshments by Kankri in the lobby as Cronus locked his office door. The moment he was able after sitting Dirk and Dave down and giving them their drinks, Kankri walked over and tried to open the door, finding his access denied. Which caused Kankri to begin texting him with an extremely annoyed expression and fast fingers. 

It was nearly twenty minutes later that Kankri stood suddenly, making his way over to the office and opening the previously locked door with more force than needed. Cronus must have just texted him with the information that it was unlocked. Dave and Dirk could hear them easily like it was a show, hearing Kankri tell him that he was treating his clients terribly and Cronus defending himself by saying that he a perfectly good reason. 

A show that they were enjoying, until the voices died down and Kankri came out with two cases in hand and bright red cheeks.

"Here," He offered, both Dirk and Dave raising their left eyebrows as they were each handed CD cases with an unmarked disk in it. 

"What's this?" 

"A rough compilation of your first album," He heaved a sigh as he pulled a bit at the black vest he was wearing, the ends meeting his red clad hips comfortably, "Cronus wants you two to listen and put it in the order of your choosing, so he can turn it into an actual, sellable album for you to bring on tour with you. Well, a tour of small clubs and bars, but I digress." 

"We already told him-" Dave started, but Kankri held up a hand. 

"I know, Dave, I could hear very clearly. These walls have terrible sound proofing, it's rather unfortunate. And I am sorry, but that doesn't change the fact that you will need to adjust the album, and it would be best to have your manager review it with you. These songs are what Cronus thinks work well together, these disks only containing eleven of your songs. It needs to have a name and particular order. You also must name your tracks. The album must be produced anyways, regardless of this trip or not so you may as well let him think he's in control before shoving it back in his face. Pardon my violent notion, that was not intended," He finished, his hands going to the pockets of his bright red pants.

Turning his head slightly to silently question his brother, Dave gave a small shrug. They really didn't have a choice and it fucking blew. "Think you can work on this with English while I stay behind and hash out details with the shark in the next room?" He asked, standing up and rolling his shoulders as he glanced at Cronus's office.

Dirk only nodded and stood, thanking Kankri for the water before he made his way down the familiar path to the elevator, his fingers fiddling with the case in hand. Behind him, he could hear Dave ask, "You coming in to negotiate with me or do I have to deal with the underwater predator myself?" to Kankri.

"Not just an underwater predator," Kankri sighed, and Dirk listened to their footsteps recede as the pair of them entered Cronus's office. 

Over the past two weeks they'd spent countless hours at Jake's apartment. It had become an actual schedule, weirdly enough. Dirk texted Jake when he woke up, and he and Dave (sometimes just him if Dave wanted to sleep in or was busy) would make their way over to the place and discuss future plans for their band. Jake was turning out to be a pretty valuable manager, already offering them options for different performance settings that he could book and requesting to listen to their current material to see if he could form some sort of campaign around it. He also continued to keep in touch with John (Not that Dave wasn't doing that every waking moment, but whatever) and was provided with updates and reviews on their current songs. 

Overall, he'd proved himself to be trustworthy. 

Fucking finally.

When Dirk walked the last of the stairs up to Jake's he didn't bother knocking as he walked in. The building he lived in was even crappier than the one that Dirk and Dave did but his own apartment was well taken care of. The last few times Dirk and Dave had came, they'd walked in as well and been greeted with some dumb phrase from the British member of their group. Sure, he'd never dropped by unannounced, but it was Jake, he'd understand.

The moment the door to the apartment swung open and hit the wall behind it, Dirk glanced down the hall, not seeing anyone. He closed the door a bit more carefully, and when the latch clicked he heard a small thudding noise from the living room, like feet hitting the ground before the place fell silent. 

That was a little concerning. 

Dirk gave a small shrug to himself, saying that Jake must have accidentally tapped something with his foot before beginning to walk down the hallway. When he was nearly at the living room, he opened his mouth to offer up a quick greeting before diving into the idea of working on the album with him.

He'd expected to find maybe Jake snoozing on the couch or playing a video game, but when he rounded the corner he was met with the barrel of a Beretta and suddenly walking into people's houses without warning seemed like a terrible idea. 

The greeting on his tongue died in his throat as his eyes widened a little behind his shades.

At the opposite end of the gun, a man wearing a white tee shirt that had a little green skull-ish shape on it and a hanging dark green overshirt glared at Dirk, even through the protective layering of his shades. 

"Who are you?" Jake's voice didn't sound the same as usual; This voice was low and vaguely threatening, hardly the bubbly and happy tone that Jake used in every conversation they'd had. It was. . . Different. 

There was no way he was going to admit this was actually attractive.

Nope.

Dirk managed to keep a straight face as he felt ice begin to build up in his joints, his chin tipping up slightly and with it the gun moving to point right between the tips on his shades.

He opened his mouth twice to speak: The first time, nothing came out but a small clicking noise from his jaw opening. The second time, he managed to clear his throat, raising his hands slightly and slipping off his shades carefully, sliding them to his hair to look Jake in the eye. "The shades didn't give it away?" He managed to say calmly, arching a blonde eyebrow as his hands splayed openly the same level as his shoulders. 

The silence lasted a total of two seconds before the gun was lowered and the safety was on, the cruel and intimidating look that Jake had previously been wearing shattering to reveal an individual who looked truly upset and horrified of his own actions. His eyes were wide as he sucked in a deep breath, "Di-Stri! Holy fucking mackerel, I'm so bloody sorry- I'm as dumb as a bag of penny candy, I swear I thought you were some sort of dollop of an idiot who was trying to burglarize my flat, and I didn't recognize you without the helmet doodad, I-"

"Slow the fuck up," Dirk requested, raising a hand to stop him, "You thought I was trying to rob you? In the daytime?" 

"It's been happening around here a friggin lot, this place is a bit seedy if you haven't noticed. And it wouldn't be the first time someone tried to rob my flat while I was here. I wasn't going to just let you waltz in here without any warning!"

"So you pulled a gun on me?" Dirk questioned, and Jake blushed brightly at that, the gun hanging at his side quickly being put into a small holster hidden on his hip.

"My grandmother raised me around artillery and handguns, I've had one strapped to my side since I was a lad. It was instinct." 

Dirk wanted to laugh. He really did. Jake looked positively riddled with guilt, his hands gripping at each other as he made eye contact with the ground while Dirk kept a neutral expression. 

The idea that this bumbling blushing doe eyed idiot was the same cold blooded gun handler he'd seen less than a minute before was actually stunning. 

Totally not endearing at all. 

Nope.

Fuck that noise. 

"Well that's a hell of a way to get introduced," He shrugged, offering up a hand, "And from this point on, unless the helmet is on, Dirk will do just fine."

"Dirk?" He asked, his eyes catching Dirk's offered hand before lifting to meet the blonde's stare. 

"Dirk Strider," He clarified, his hand still held up between them. The eye contact they maintained was borderline impressive until Dirk had to physically reach out to shake Jake's hand, the grip that he provided in return slightly slack until it tightened dramatically. 

"Sorry I almost shot you," Jake apologized, giving a nervous and forced smile as he kept Dirk's gaze, their hands still shaking. 

"Well you didn't, so congratulations on your restraint," Dirk replied, winking at him once before his free hand reached up and flicked his shades back down, this hand sliding away from Jake's but not before the pads of his fingers rubbed against his wrist. Exactly like they had when he'd left Deuces all that time ago. 

The blush this time had nothing to do with embarrassment. 

 

-

 

"You pulled a gun on him?" Roxy was still laughing much to Jake's disdain, her hand covering her mouth as she fought to get a breath in, "Oh Jake honey, holy shit." 

"I didn't know who he was!" He groaned, his face meeting the pillow on Roxy's bed as he kicked his feet slightly. He'd came over right after he and Dirk had sorted out the whole album situation. And, admittingly, just talked for a while. It was nice, seeing more than a silver helmet and a blank screen. 

Very nice. 

But that niceness was soiled seeing as Roxy couldn't stop laughing at him ever since he began telling the story of what'd happened.

"Sooo? What did you think of him?" Roxy asked, pausing applying paint to her toe nails to glance over at Jake as she waggled her eyebrows. 

He was silent for a moment before letting out a whistle, "Hello nurse, he's a rather attractive fellow," He admitted, blushing brightly as Roxy patted his back. 

"Well he should be flattered that you've been crushing on him before you even knew that he was hot. All that 'It's all in the personality' stuff."

Jake gave a muffled sigh, glaring at Roxy from the corner of his eye as she rolled her own, "It'll all be alriiiiiiight. Who knows? You may be able to still get a date with him even after nearly killing him," She cooed, tapping his shoulder one final time before going back to painting her nails. 

"shut it," Jake groaned pitifully, "I'm not dating him, I'm his ruddy manager, I can't get involved with him in any sort of way besides musical."

"Sing him a song about getting a great dicking?" Roxy giggled, and let out a small squeal as a hand flew out and hit her nail polish over on her toes, which was quickly wiped off on the back of his shirt with a winning laugh as he groaned sadly again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com and I can assure you'll be responded to. Thanks for reading!))


	11. Emotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((No sleep = 6000+ word chapter. I'm so sorry.))

Dirk had gone to flirt, obviously. That's how Dave saw it, anyways. He had done all the hard work negotiating the terms on this whole 'college tour' thing with a guy who looked like he got ripped off the set of Grease while Dirk tried to tap a fine piece of British ass. Typical, in Dave's opinion. He'd been kind enough to let his brother go in a vague attempt to hit on a guy, and then he was stuck with a really stubborn boss who was adamant on them going on tour. Oh, woe was Dave. Always the one to do everything important.  

And by that it meant he'd given up an hour into the talk and gave Cronus permission to just do what he wanted because, well, money was an important thing. 

"Why the fuck did we agree to this?" Dirk asked quietly, listening to a dull roar just outside the door of their room, both of them standing and facing the door with their helmets held in hand.

"Because Cronus offered 5 G and we need to get popular," Dave countered, but from the corner of his eye Dirk could see that Dave's normal cool expression had been replaced with a carefully blank one as they stood in their dressing room, both trying to will themselves to walk out on stage within the next eight minutes. 

"Five grand isn't that much when you put it in perspective."

"Put into the perspective of our poor asses and then tell me how you feel."

There was a sound at the door, and in seven seconds flat each blonde was wearing their helmet, each having their signature shades in their back pockets. Screen lights turning on in unison as leather gloves flexed, the most recent addition to their ensemble being metal plates covering their hands and fingers. Gold and silver, respectively, and adding to the whole 'robot look'. 

The same robot look that Cronus had sworn people would fall in love with a week ago. 

He better be fucking right.

God it felt like it had been years since they'd been in Houston, since Dave would spend all day messaging John as Dirk would deal with their manager. 

Speaking of Jake, his head popped through the door, a black cuff around his ear serving as a headset through which he could talk to Roxy if needed. She'd been the one to come with them through all of this, and much to everyone's surprise, she fit right in with them like she'd known them for years. She was currently at the table in the back of the place, trying to sell albums to a crowd that hadn't even heard their music. 

She'd probably somehow manage to actually get a few sold before the show. Roxy seemed to be good with people at all times, and the only time they'd seen her less than ecstatic with any person was when Jane said she had to stay in Houston while they went on the road. 

"Are you two ready?" Jake asked, looking at the pair of performers who were standing side by side, who'd turned their attention to him.

"Yes," Di-Stri lied easily, "How many people are here?" 

This was the second club they'd be performing at on this little college tour of theirs. The first one had been in Houston itself, a small but energetic crowd that had given them a bit more confidence in their music. Of course this was more Dave's division, and instead of the co-op stance they'd had at their very first live performance that Dirk had practiced for, Dirk worked on the main beat while Dave focused his attention on careful layering and tweaking their original sounds just slightly. He also acted as the voice of the two of them, his voice chip having been fixed and sounding good with the songs. It was a good combination, and by the end of the night they'd sold a fair amount of albums.

Now they were in the second biggest city in Texas right next to their own dear city of Houston, and both of them were something they didn't think they could be; Actually nervous.

"About seven hundred and fifty," Jake guesstimated, and three exclamation points flashed repeatedly across their faces, "But relax! You'll do fine, both of you. There's no new material to play, this is all just review, no need to get your knickers in a twist."

"How the fuck are there that many people?" Turntech asked, and Jake rolled his eyes. 

"You've gotten popular with the young adult crowd and you're playing directly next to The University of San Antonio, you shouldn't be that surprised. For frigs flipping sake, you both need to relax." 

"Cronus is going to have to cough up more than five grand for this," Di-Stri said flatly, crossing his arms. "I didn't sign up for a bunch of drunk college idiots crashing this in the hundreds." His recorder hummed for a second as he was about to speak again, but he didn't due to a small thumping noise from behind the door Jake was standing in front of. 

All three boys paused and Jake turned around to look at it before it slammed open, causing the Englishman to stumble and Di-Stri to flashstep to catch him as Turntech was tackled. His helmet hit the floor with a loud 'thunk', his shoulders meeting the wooden floor as a weight was settled on top of his abdomen while Jake began to say, "This is a private room!" before cutting himself off.

In a blur of black hair and blue eyes, Dave allowed an exclamation to flash on his face and behind his screen he damn near smiled as he found a boy laughing above him. Said boy was sitting on his stomach with a bright expression, buck teeth framing his smile before he greeted, "Welcome to San Antonio!"

"John?" He asked, his voice sounding completely muffled and near silent. John was wearing a white tee shirt with what reminded Dave of a green chibi version of the ghost on GhostBusters logo and a pair of aviators hung off the collar of his shirt. John offered scrunched up nose in response to the questioning of his identity, tipping his head to the side just a bit and reminding the blonde of a puppy. 

A really big, really cute and really heavy puppy. 

Dave couldn't breathe, to be honest. 

Behind John's shoulder, Dave could see Jake rolling his eyes at his cousin as Di-Stri was apparently looking him over, wearing two question marks and apparently asking a few questions which Dave could assume was him asking if he was okay. 

They were so gay, that shit was ridiculous. 

"Who else would it be, dummy?" John asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

It was weirdly familiar, seeing as they'd talked daily for nearly a month but only actually met one other time. 

It was just so obviously, stupidly John of him, with the crossed arms and the dumb glasses. 

And then possibly the worst thing in the world happened in response to John's question.  Or, well, the worst thing in Dave's mind. Worse than accidentally doing something that was completely devoid of irony. Worse than breaking his first pair of shades and yes, even worse than his 'meme/internet nice guy' phase when he was fourteen when he was still an acne ridden asshole. 

His screen displayed a large, unmistakable pink heart. 

John's eyes widened even behind the magnification of his glasses, and Turntech shot into sitting position, hands going to cover his mask the best he could but god fucking damn it the screen was way too big even with his dumbly large hands. Accidentally knocking John onto his butt, the dark haired one of the two of them covered his mouth as he giggled, only causing Turntech's heart to flash once before he tried to shake his head. 

Jake was dismissing himself, saying that he needed to check in with Roxy and that they had five minutes before they needed to be on stage. 

Hearing the laughter and the sound of Turntech kicking his feet, Di-Stri turned away from the door that Jake had exited and looked at the pair of them before mechanical laughter was paired with the very human sound of John's giggles. 

A flashing red x, then back to the heart, and suddenly Turntech was trying to speak and the words were too quiet to hear and far harder to say. 

Raising his hands to pacify him as he walked over, Di-Stri forced his little brother to stop moving for a moment before crouching down and turning Turntech's head back and fourth to view the exposed circuits at the very base, "Fucking relax. When John tackled you, you jarred your helmet pretty badly. Your voice chip just needs to be moved a little and it'll be fine."

The heart flashed again before a large question mark as John looked between the two of them, at least looking embarrassed and also extremely amused while he crossed his legs patiently, the three of them now sitting in a little circle.

"A setting on the cat ears was affection. I didn't think it'd ever actually pop up so I made it something that would be funny," He answered honestly, and Turntech punched his shoulder. "Hey it's not my fault you got all lov-"

The statement went unfinished as two leather bound hands covered Di-Stri's air-vents, the silver robot displaying exclamation points and hitting the back of Turntech's helmet with the heel of his hand in retaliation. Both of them were jarred enough that Di-Stri fell back on his haunches, sucking in a deep breath as Turntech gave another red x. 

"You're an asshole," Di-Stri admonished, and Turntech flipped him off in return. His hands went to his helmet, and for a moment John was hopeful enough to let himself think he was going to get to see his face. 

He was partially right, he supposed. The helmet slid back just enough that Turntech's mouth was exposed, his skin extremely pale while pink lips allowed a smooth voice to spill forward. "Now what, dick? I do all the speaking parts of in our performance and you don't know them."

John's eyes wandered over the bit of pale skin that was moving and shifting in a very human way as one brother snapped at the other. His voice was not what he was expected at all; His voice chip through the helmet was like metal grating on metal (or at least it had been last time John had seen him in person over a month ago). His real voice was what John could only say as. . . lovely. 

In a totally platonic way, of course. Psh. What else would he mean? They were totally friends. 

"I'll figure it out, I can learn it before we go on," Di-Stri shrugged, and Turntech's screen went blank. 

"Hey, while you're fixing my helmet you may need to build in a pair of goggles so I can at least see while I swim through the river of bullshit that you're spewing right now."

"Take it off and let met have a look," Di-Stri ordered, and Turntech's hands paused at his sides for a moment before reaching back, turning off the helmet. 

It slid off, exposing sensitive eyes to an overly bright room and causing him to close them quickly with a wince, handing off the helmet blindly. His hand went to grab his shades from his back pocket, but fingers danced over shattered plastic and he heaved a sigh. "Great, mine are fucking broken. Pass up your shades, if I open my eyes now I'm gonna be able to see about as much as Helen Keller, dead or alive," He ordered his sibling, but instead of being met with the feeling of pointed shades he was met with the smooth curve that his old shades had. 

Thank god he had his eyes closed because it gave John enough time to compose himself.

He hadn't expected Turntech to be that attractive. 

This was getting worse as time went on.

Dave opened his mouth to question it, but instead the glasses went on, and he damn near let out a sigh of relief. These had even better tinting than his old ones. Actually, they were pretty fucking quality. "Where'd you get these? I may need to grab a pair," Dave said, adjusting them just a bit.

"They were Ben Stiller's," John explained with a happy smile, "My Dad got them for me for my birthday, but they've never really fit me. They- Hey. Hey wait a second." He frowned, pointing at Dave as he thought momentarily, "You're the guy! The one from the dream!" John said, looking almost startled, "The guy with the gloves!"

"Wal-Mart, the place of dreams," Dave sloganed, extending a hand. "Dave. If you didn't remember. and I knew I was a lot of peoples dream man, but damn if I thought I was yours."

John blushed at that, shaking his hand easily before using his free hand to push himself to stand, hauling Dave to his feet as well. It was so weird, but somehow Dave was less expressive outside of the helmet than in it, when he didn't even have a face. "Ha ha," He laughed robotically before clarifying, "I mean, I think I had a dream about you. Like you you, not robot you, this you. We were dancing, at Deuces, and it seemed nice and all but- The gloves!" He pointed at Dave's hands, "You were wearing the same gloves as Turntech, the same gloves that you bought in the store. I didn't really realize until now." 

"Wow dude I give you my heart and you tell me I'm your dream guy, I feel like we're moving a little fast." The situation was being played off to the best of Dave's abilities, his wounded pride and coolness looking for protection and finding  solace in a few lame gay jokes. Striders were nothing if not quality. He winked at John once before John was about to defend the fact that no, they were not moving at all because moving would mean they'd started at some point before interrupting his train of thought. "Point being," The blond said, "I need my helmet back." 

"I can't give it to you yet," Di-Stri answered, "the more I look, I'm thinking I can't fix your mic without the equipment back at our hotel room."

"So we're fucked then. Great. We've gotta switch up our set-list so we have songs that are devoid of talking. Or at least play songs with speaking parts that Dirk knows, because without my mic I can't sing." 

"You're Dirk, I'm assuming?" John questioned, and the sliver robot just waved slightly without even looking up, all his attention focused on the back of Dave's helmet and adjusting a small square looking piece. 

"Sup," He greeted distractedly, "And really? The entire set?" 

"Nearly all of our shit on this album has speaking. We would still be about five minute short of a finished set even if we played everything we've got, and that's including Around the World. Phoenix wasn't even supposed to be in this set, but I think we can throw it in too." Dirk pointed out, giving a small, electrical sigh. 

"Well then we'll have to come up with new shit. Or at least one new piece of shit."

"In two and a half minutes?" 

"We can improvise." 

"You can improvise, I'll be useless. I don't know the soundboards that well." 

"You won't be useless, Dirkie Downer, calm the fuck down." Dave pondered, and behind his new (and admittingly killer) shades, he glanced at John. The guy was biting his bottom lip in what looked like concern, and Dave was hit with an idea like a brick over the back of the head. "Congrats buddy, you're my new inspiration."

"W-What?" John asked, and Dave looked down at Dirk. 

"Think of a song based around a dream," Dave ordered his brother. 

"Wow Shakespeare, mind specifying a little more?" Dirk propped his forearm up on the top of Dave's helmet as he looked up. 

"Look, I'm gonna go out there, lay down a beginning beat and I want you to rap as slow as fucking possible. Make it rhyme and make it flow, so just sing basically. I'll work with you."

"How fast of a song are we talking about here?" Di-Stri questioned.

"Not fast. In fact something upbeat but relaxed. I have a beat in mind and the whole 'Had a dream about you' lyrical route would be pretty perfect for it. The pace'll give me more time to work something up but for all I fucking care make it a love song, just think of something." 

"You are the shittiest instructor ever," The eldest one in the room assured, his head tilting back in thought, the metal catching the light just right, "But I think I've got something."

"Seriously?" 

"Put your helmet on, we've got a set to perform," Di-Stri ordered, standing and handing Dave his helmet. "Also follow my lead, I know which songs to cut."

The shades came off again, his eyes remaining closed to avoid the brightness of the room before the helmet was turned back on again. Turning towards John as Dirk began to leave the room, Dave offered up the shades he'd been lent, his helmet calibrating and after a few seconds offering up a green check mark of approval. 

John shook his head, giving a crooked smile, "As much as I love Ben Stiller, they really don't fit me.  They look good on you though, you should keep them." 

Dave lifted up his helmet just far enough to speak, "Seriously?"

"Yeah! As long as you promise not to be shady with people while wearing them." He stuck his tongue between his teeth with a smile as Dave just paused. 

"Shitty puns are my lifeblood, so I'll let that slide. But hold onto these for me, I don't wanna get tackled and break these too." 

John sighed at that, taking the offered eyewear, "Yeah alright. Sorry about that by the way." 

"No problem. Hopefully next time you're on top of me I'm better prepared." His mouth ticked into a smirk before it disappeared under his helmet, making his cool exit as John stuttered and flushed. 

 

-

 

_"Last night, I had a dream about you._

_In this dream, I'm dancing right beside you._

_And it looks, like everyone was having fun;_

_The kind of feeling, I waited so long for._

_"Don't stop, come a little closer,_

_As we dance, the rhythm gets stronger._

_There's nothing wrong, with just a little, little fun_

_We were dancing all night long._

_"The time is right, to put my arms around you_

_You feel it right, you wrap your arms around too_

_"but suddenly, I feel the shining sun,_

_Before I know it, this dream was all gone_

_Ooh. I don't know what to do._

_About this dream and you._

_Let's make this dream come true."_

 

The last song of the night being played by Daft Punk, and the crowd so far seemed to love it more than the rest of their music. John was a little slack jawed as he watched the two of them perform. Turntech seemed a bit more twitchy than he normally would, but it wasn't noticeable to people who weren't observing him extremely closely. Jake leaned over to his cousin, both of them standing with Roxy as she sold records left and right.

"When did they come up with this? Did they tell you they'd made a new song? I've listened to all their material and I've never heard this. Were you all in cahoots or something?" He questioned, and John shook his head. 

"I broke Dave's voice chip, so this is totally improv'd." 

"Wait, Dave?" Jake looked startled, "He told you his name?" 

"Let met look at his face and everything," He grinned toothily, "I'm guessing you've seen them both then?" 

"Just Dirk," Jake answered honestly, the tips of his ears turning pink, "The situation was surprising. I nearly shot him in the face."

"You nearly shot him?!" John asked, adopting a horrified expression as he turned his head, looking at Jake.

"He waltzed into my home, and I hadn't seen him without the helmet! I didn't recognize him. It was a blunder, why does nobody get that?" 

"Jesus Jake, there are boundaries!"

"Exactly, meaning he shouldn't have acted like a bonehead and entered my flat without knocking," He agreed, but John rolled his eyes. 

"I was meaning for you, not him. How did he react to the whole gun thing?" 

"He just looked at me, he didn't seem to care all that much, thank god," Jake admitted, "But bandy with aplomb, he's got a pinning gaze." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"His eyes are bloody orange." 

"Orange?" 

"Orange. They're absolutely stunning, I was damn near knocked speechless but I had to apologize for being such a ruddy twat and nearly killing him. I was going to comment on them, but he put his shades on before I could observe them at all, confound it." 

"Wow," John murmured. He began to wonder if Dave had an interesting eye color as well. The only people he knew with odd eye colors were, well, Roxy and Rose. The two of them had pink and purple tinted eyes, but that was apparently genetic and caused them both eye sight problems more than once. Maybe it was the same with them? 

"Orange eyes? So you finally got a look at the Strider babes, huh?" Roxy asked, causing the two dark haired boys to nearly jump out of their skin as she appeared at their shoulders. 

"Jesus christofer kringlefucker! give some warning before you pop up?" Jake requested, but she waved a hand. 

"I have a problem, sir manager," She sighed, propping her elbows up on both of their shoulders, "I'm out of albums to sell."

"What?"

"Yup. All five hundred, gone."

"That's impossible," Jake said, even as he smiled.

"Sorry hon, but I'm skint on any more CDs. People have been stopping by the booth during the entire performance and buying them like it's going out of style. We're gonna need to restock before we get to their next gig." 

"How is that possible?" Jake asked, and Roxy smirked. 

"Well, cute girl selling albums to a good band, you really can't expect me to not get rid of them all right?" She joked, waving a hand dismissively. John rolled his eyes fondly as Roxy laughed, and she winked once. 

"Well their next job is not for a few more days," Jake pondered, "We could send someone back to Houston some more copies, you can call Cronus and have more made prior." 

"Well talk to Dave and Dirk," She said, but nodded anyways, "See what they think."

The music switched from booming to a preset playlist by, presumably, the club owners as the place erupted with applause, both Turntech and Di-Stri offering up short waves and nods to the crowd. "I'll ask them, I've gotta give Dave his glasses anyways," John offered up, and both of his friends agreed with the idea. 

As he tried to make his way across the crowd, he had to nudge past more than a few people just to try and get to the back stage area. The place was positively packed, and the overwhelming heat was already making him have to pluck his shirt away from his chest once in a while. 

He didn't realize that he'd been pushing his way though maybe a bit too roughly until a hand tangled in the back of John's shirt, hauling him backwards and allowing him to give a squeak as his feet left the ground from under him. 

The man who was holding him was far more muscular than John, and taller. He was wearing a backwards cap and a drunken expression, his words slurring just barely. "You shoved my girl over," He accused, nodding to the blonde girl who was pouting over his shoulder.

The first thought that came to mind? 

This guy looked like the definition of the word 'tool'.

"I-" John blinked before looking at her, providing a sorry smile, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Hey, you don't get to look at her," The stranger growled, lifting John a bit off the ground as John's hands went up to the strangers wrist, pulling himself up a little bit to avoid being choked. 

"Listen, I didn't mean to-" John felt fear begin to build up in his stomach as he tried to kick his feet a little. Holy hell this guy was strong, "I-"

Surprisingly, a new voice entered the two person conversation, interrupting John, "Can I help you, sir?" A gruff voice questioned, and John tried to turn around to look at the source. 

"This is none of your business, asshole. This scrawny fuck-"

"Such language is not needed," The gruff one assured coldly, and it was then that John was surprised as two figures stepped forward. At this point people were already beginning to form a small circle around John and this drunk guy, probably expecting a fight that John really didn't want to be a part of. However the people who were attempting to save him, were, well, not what he'd expected.

 The one who'd spoken so far was a man, tattoo sleeved arms crossed over his chest easily as a brown beard a few inches long hung from his chin. He wore a black wifebeater, which showed off arms that were extremely well toned. Next to him was a girl, wearing a black tank top with a green jacket tied loosely around her waist, who could not have been taller than five foot. She wore with wavy, black hair cut into a bob, the style mostly covered up by a blue knit beanie that had what appeared to be cat ears on it. Pair that with a nose piercing and a cute smile, and she looked completely innocent, watching the event unfold with interest as her hands rested on her black clad waist.

"This dick hurt my girlfriend, I'm defending her," Drunky McFightsaLot accused, and John shook his head. 

"I didn't mean-" John began before getting shaken a little. 

"Shut up," The guy growled. 

"Equius-" The short girl started in a voice that was just as cute as her. For a moment John thought she was going to try to talk him down from fighting this stranger, but instead her expression turned damn near wicked, "Can I?" 

"Calm down, Nepeta, not unless he initiates something," Equius responded quietly, and Nepeta's shoulders sank a little. Turning towards the stranger, Equius just blinked, "Please, drop the young gentleman. You appear to be heavily inebriated and I don't believe I can condone such ridiculous behavior in this establishment." 

"Look fuckface-" The guy growled, his free hand tangling with the front of Equius's shirt while John's left elbow and left cheek met the ground jarringly hard as he was dropped. 

Equius didn't even flinch, staring the man down as Nepeta smiled happily.

"He started it!" She exclaimed, and the drunk dude was on the ground within three seconds flat, a hit to the stomach and right hook to the ear causing him to collapse and curl up.

A few people let out exclamations, his girlfriend calling out, "Jace!" in surprise as Equius didn't move an inch, observing as Nepeta raised a fist to hit him in the ribs before seeing that he wasn't going to fight back and allowing her hand to drop to her side.

It took John a moment to even understand what had happened, until he saw pair of black Vans meet the guys chest, Nepeta crouching down to speak to him, "I think it's time for you to go home now! Thanks for stopping in," She smiled, dragging her feet a little as she stepped off of the guy, causing him to give a groan of pain. She took the hand that Equius offered up to keep her balance before she stepped over, offering a hand to John. "Hi!"

". . .Hi," He said cautiously, taking her hand and allowing himself to be hauled to his feet. He watched as the guy scrambled up, rolling his shoulders and shoving through the crowd with his girlfriend in tow. Both his elbow and his cheek were positively throbbing, but he was more just stunned at what had even happened, "Thanks." 

"Well of course silly, it's our job!" She assured, nodding once, "We're security here. I'm Nepeta and this is Equius. That guy's been looking to pick a fight aaaaaaall night, it was about time he got some sense knocked into him. Just sorry that he chose you though, you don't seem that bad!" John noticed that her 'r's made a rolling sound, comparable to an accent or a purr, "So you're alright now?" 

"Yeah," He assured, giving a small smile, "Just a little in shock, that was really impressive." 

Equius was still quiet, so Nepeta nudged him slightly, forcing him to talk even a little. "I do apologize that you were forced into such a predicament," Equius said, giving a small nod, "Is there anything we can assist you with?" 

"I'm just trying to get backstage," John admitted. Equius nodded once before beginning to lead the way, and John was more than a little surprised to see the crowd parting like the Red Sea with Moses in its midst. Nepeta followed behind the both of them, commenting that John's elbow and face looked bruised and offering to get him some ice. She seemed nice enough, and compared to how intimidating Equius seemed, John felt both safe but extremely confused with them giving him a quick escort.

They left him in front of Dave and Dirk's room with smile and wave and a solemn nod, causing him to scramble into the dressing room the moment they were out of sight. He leaned against the door and let out a deep sigh, catching sigh of a blonde wearing pointed shades looking up at him. 

"You alright?" Dirk asked, and John let out a whoosh of air, leaning against the door. 

"Define 'alright'," He huffed out with a small smile, but it was then that he noticed that the room was dimmed compared to before and a figure rounded the corner from the edge of the room. 

"Yo, you're back. I need to nab those shades, and I was wondering, _what_ _the fuck_ happened to your face?" Dave's tone changed half way through the sentence, a hand lifting to point vaguely at John's left cheek. 

"What? Oh, some dude, he-"

"Someone hurt you?" Dave asked, stepping forwards and looking John over with blood red eyes.

His eyes were red. 

Really red. Candy red. Apple red. Super fucking red. Pair it with well groomed blonde eyebrows and surprisingly dark lashes along with small little laugh lines in the very corners of each eye, and the whole thing was very distracting. 

Meaning that John got fingers snapped in front of his face, "Egbert, back to Earth. Who hit you?" 

"What?" Blinking, he looked at Dave again, "No one! This drunk, beefed out Goliath lifted me up like a rag doll and was about to probably beat the crap out of me but these two security guards jumped in and sorta saved the day. The guy was on the ground in three seconds flat, I've never seen anything like it."

"Your face looks like it was hit by an anvil, Wile E Coyote," Dave deadpanned, and it was then that there was a knock at the door. John turned around and opened it, surprised to find Nepeta, who was holding a cloth and a small bag of ice. 

"Got these for you!" She offered up, "I told Equius to bring them, but he was being a total sour puss because the cloth is rubbing alcohol and not Witch Hazel. He's kind of a priss seeing as it's rubbing alcohol isn't vegan and all that but I thought you'd need to clean up your cheek!"

"Thanks," John smiled, plucking up the items as she looked up, catching Dave's gaze. 

"You must be the performer!" She said, her gaze brightening as Dave sort of blinked at her, "You guys did great! Working here, there are a lot of bands that pass through. But you're one of the best I've heard!"

"Thank you," Dave said, glancing at John sideways and causing John to give a small exclamation. 

"Oh! Sorry, this is Nepeta, she's the one who helped me out." 

"Wait, you took down someone that John described as Goliath?" Dave questioned.

"Is that surprising?" She questioned, her eyes narrowing. 

Dave thought for a minute before shaking his head, "Impressive. Nice cat hat, by the way."

"It's purrhaps the most purrfect hat I own," She joked, and Dirk smirked from further in the room.

This partner of yours, what's he like?" He asked. 

"A tall dummy. He's a vegan and can be kinda rude to most people, but otherwise he's a big old marshmallow," She chuckled. It was then that her head tipped, "Why?" 

"Because I think I just found a way that Cronus can pay us back," Dave said, and John could almost see her get confused as Dave looked at her. "Would you be interested in a job?" 

"A job? I kinda obviously already have one," She pointed out, smiling, "But what kind of job?" 

"A security job. You protect us any time we're on tour, we pay you," He offered up, and she thought for a moment. 

"What kind of pay?" 

"Double what you're getting now plus free food and added benefits," He said, and her grin widened a little bit. 

"I'll be riiiiiiiight back!" She promised, closing her eyes once as she smiled and reminding John of the Chinese lucky cat before turning on heel, practically bolting down the hall. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Dirk asked as they closed the door, glaring at his brother behind his shades. 

"Fucking with Cronus and staying safe, obviously," Dave said, and John couldn't help but chuckle a little as he passed off the shades, which Dave slipped on before taking the rag away from John. "Now come on, follow me." 

Within one minute, Dave had sat John down in one of the chairs littering the dressing room, the rag meeting the long cut across John's cheek bone. "Why did you really offer them a job?" John asked quietly, wincing at the cold and pain brought on by cleaning the cut. 

"She liked my music and saved a friend, seemed like a good idea," Dave said, folding the rag over in his hand before going back to cleaning.

"Daaaave."

"Alright, this place is kind of a shit hole, and if you weren't exaggerating and she actually managed to take down some huge asshole, she may actually be a good addition. Cronus kept bugging us about getting body guards as well as getting some fucking lawyer, so I'm gonna get them. But this also means Cronus is going to have to pay for them, seeing as it's in our contract."

"How did you negotiate that?" 

"I didn't, Cronus pissed Kankri off so Kankri added it," Dave smirked lightly, taking the ice and pressing it to his cheek, "Keep that on there for the next ten minutes, Egderp. No more getting into fights otherwise I'm gonna have to cut down on your curfew young man." 

John rolled his eyes but smiled none the less, "By the way. We need to head back to Houston." 

"What? Why?" Dave asked. 

"You're all sold out of albums. Someone needs to go pick up more."

"You're fucking serious?" He deadpanned, and John gave the best nod he could muster with the ice pressed against his face, "Holy shit, we brought like five hundred copies."

"Well, blame Roxy," John snorted.

"So who's heading back to Houston?" 

"They said to ask you guys." 

". . . Dirk?" Dave called out, and Dirk looked up from Dave's helmet, which was fiddling with once more. 

"Yo." 

"Wanna run back to Houston?" 

"Not particularly."

"Well you're gonna do it anyways. You can bring your very precious Jakey-Poo with you," He clutched his hands together right over his heart. 

"And you can go fuck yourself," Dirk responded, pressing his fingers down on two different wires as his fingernail nudged a small exposed strip of copper, "When do I leave?" 

"Whenever you want." 

"Well, we've still gotta get all of our equipment loaded up into the car, not to mention that Roxy and you would have to find a place to crash seeing as we were planning on heading to Dallas early in the morning and Jake and I would be staying in Houston overnight, because it's already getting dark out and I'm not going on some seven hour round trip."

"You can stay with me," John offered, and the smirk that Dirk wore was smug enough to get a hairbrush chucked at him. 

"Look at that Dirk, he's already more welcoming of me than you were of your English induced sexuality crisis." 

The hairbrush was thrown back, and John began laughing as Dave managed to dodge it with ease. "So, John, where exactly am I spending the night?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I can't help it, I always imagine Human!Equius as one of those rare vegan people who hate everyone who's not a vegan and is supper judgmental and kind of an asshole (but guys come on that fits and I still love Eq). Ps, before people ask me why Nep isn't making a billion cat puns, I just couldn't find a way to fit them with her human persona in a work setting. They will be added later on with her because lets face it, Nep without cat puns is physically painful, but you know what I mean ^^ Any comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a comment below, and I'll get right to you! Thanks for reading dolls, it means the world))


	12. Face to Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I'm just realizing how funny this chapter title is going with this chapter omg. Anyways! There is an actual plot to this that will come into play within the next chapter or two, so as an apology of what is going to be a rather abrupt transition, I offer you; A car ride and a sleep over. (Aka the most disgusting amount of fluff on earth) Enjoy~))

The van that they'd been using was full of all of their sound equipment by the time that Dirk and Jake began roaring away from the city of San Antonio, leaving behind Roxy and Dave and excluding them from their homeward bound adventure. 

The driving itself would only take three hours, but seeing as it was already ten at night, everyone decided it would just be safer to crash for the night in their respective cities instead of all trying to load everything up and ride together or do a six hour round trip. They'd gotten rid of their hotel room, not willing to pay the extra hundred dollars for very little use, and as it turned out Roxy would be crashing with her younger sister, and Dave with John. Which happened to be in the same apartment. 

At least that meant less splitting up. 

So, after getting the band loaded up completely and making sure that John was giving Dave and Roxy a ride back to his place, Dirk and Jake stopped at a gas station, filled a shopping bag with a few handfuls of Five Hour Energy and a bunch of fruit candy, and set off. 

It really had started off promising enough, with talking, music, laughter, and pointing out things on other cars, such as the stupidity of those little stick figure families or the coolness of a zombie family on the back of one. 

And yet only an hour in, the two had succumbed to the world of car games just to keep the boredom at bay. 

"Alright, three things. I was born in England, I am an only child, or my grandmother is a world renowned explorer." 

"I'm gonna guess that your Grandma is probably one who knits and talks about tea and shit, so the last one is the lie." 

"Wrong," Jake answered, "I was born in Brazil while my mother and Grandmum were on an assignment. I wasn't actually a British citizen until I was two." 

"Ah, an exotic beauty then," Dirk smirked, and from the corner of his eye he could see Jake turn a little pink, "Alright my turn. My favorite animal is the horse, I can sword fight, or I've been in a plane before."

"Pshaw, you really expect me to believe that you've fought with swords before? I call bollocks on that." Jake chuckled. 

"Wrong. I've never flown. Hell yeah I fight with swords, that's how I was raised."

The dark haired one of the two paused, his smile unsure, "Seriously?" 

"Yeah. Bro raised us to strife, both Dave an I can practically shave with one of those things."

"Good gravy, you were raised around a load of sharp pieces of metal and don't see a huge fucking problem with that?" 

"You were raised around a bunch of guns, don't even hate bro."

"So wait, your brother raised you to do this. What did your parents say?" 

"Usually nothing, seeing as they weren't there," Dirk shrugged. 

"Oh. Oh I'm so sorry, did they. . .?" Jake's eyebrows shifted downwards on the far ends as he looked at Dirk, not meaning to have brought up a touchy subject.

One sideways glance and a doubletake caused Dirk to roll his eyes, "No, they didn't die, relax, you look like you just kicked a puppy. When Dave turned five they decided that Bro was old enough to hold down the fort and dropped us. Haven't seen them in fourteen years and I could not give less of a shit." 

"They just left?" The thought was almost hard to process for Jake. He'd been raised with both his father and his mother, and grandmother even, right there. They were never more than a phone-call away, but the idea of having no adult made him almost concerned for Dirk. 

At least until he realized that Dirk was twenty three and could take care of himself now, but still concerned none the less.

Yet even as he looked at him, Jake noticed that Dirk didn't seem to even care, his wrists crossed and draped over the top of the steering wheel as he plucked at his pinky nail idly. This conversation was hardly seeming to affect him at all. 

"Yup. Didn't realize what had happened until two months later, when Dave was still asking when they'd be home and Bro couldn't give an answer as he was getting dressed for his second job."

"Your brother, how old was he?" 

"Fifteen when they left, sixteen within the next week. He dropped out of school and got two jobs making sure we didn't die, so I helped out with Dave as much as I could until he was old enough to stop fucking around and get his head on straight."

"Why wouldn't one of you have called the authorities? Told them what happened, requested assistance?" 

"And get the three of us shoved into foster-care and split up? Fuck no, Bro was smarter than that. He considered it, for a while, when we were desperate, but when Dave started kindergarten and was gone for seven hours a day shit was a bit easier. He didn't see the need. He did his job." Again, a shrug was offered up, Dirk's entire expression hidden from the shades and the angle. But, if Jake were going to guess, he'd assume that it was the same straight forward face as usual. 

"Have you ever thought about finding them?" Jake questioned. 

"Why? They don't get to ditch and then reap the rewards of the kick ass kids that Bro did all the work with. Not to mention that that would take time, money and interest in finding them that I don't have."

"You're not even a little curious?" 

"Why should I be?" Jake was almost startled as Dirk actually looked over him, his hands stilling so they were no longer fiddling above the wheel, "I hardly remember them anyways, what interest would I have?" 

"Relax, mate, I wasn't trying to ensue anything," Jake pacified, and Dirk must have seen something on his face that caused him to sigh, turning back to the road, "It's just hard, trying to imagine that someone could be so cruel as to leave their children behind. It's just incongruous in comparison to my own raising. But I must agree with you, that they don't deserve to get to know you."

There was silence before a blonde eyebrow ticked up slightly, "Why's that?" 

"I still feel like it's a privilege to even talk to you and I haven't even done something that inscrutable."

A low chuckle came from the driver, "A privilege? Is that a pick up line?" 

"Good golly, not everything I say is meant to get into your trousers!" Jake exclaimed, rolling his eyes and causing Dirk to laugh a bit easier now, "But I mean it. Truly! You've been fairly interesting this entire friendship, not to mention that you've allowed me to be the manager to a rather fantastic band. You're a talented musician and mechanic and you don't seem to care what everyone thinks of your every move. You do what you want and seem to know it's correct while never giving anything away." 

"Now I know you're hitting on me." 

"Fine," Jake chirped, "I take it all back then."

"What, you're revoking your flirting? You can't fucking do that, that's like burning a paper and suddenly wanting it back, it's not gonna happen. The damage is done." As opposed to the tight expression he'd been wearing earlier, Dirk actually looked extremely amused.

"What damage? How was that damaging?" Jake challenged.

"You've flirted, now you've gotta pay the consequences."

"Consequences?"

"Did I stutter?" 

"You know what Strider? Fine. I'll pay them. What exactly are they? What horrible consequences can come from stating a few facts and opin- Bloody hell Dirk!" The brakes were slammed on before the car went off onto the shoulder of the interstate, and Jake rubbed his collarbone from the where the seat belt had bitten in when they'd come to a stop, "What the bloody beast do you think you're do-"

Again, his sentence was cut off. This time, however, it wasn't by the car slamming to a stop but by a hand tangling in the front of his shirt and him being yanked over the center console, a mouth press solidly against his own. 

It was chaste, lips on lips and positively nothing else, but like hell if Jake didn't nearly have a heart attack as his hands tightened into fists on his lap. Honestly, he could even feel the pinpricks up and down his left arm as he let out a small huff through his nose.

He wanted to ask why Dirk had found this necessary, or what this implied because honestly, a person should receive far more warning than that if they were being kissed! What if his mouth had been open? What if he'd had bad breath? What if he hadn't wanted to kiss? Dirk had some gall thinking he could just spring this on him, confound it. He should really give that boy a piece of his mind, and explain that he should have at least been less abrupt. 

But no matter how much he wanted to pull back and chastise the blonde for his timing, he found he really couldn't move from his spot. 

Jake's lips shifted a touch, and most of him would like to think that it was to open his mouth and argue even against Dirk's mouth. Going with this theory and deciding he needed to make space for his words to be heard, his mouth opened just a touch more, and Dirk's moved with him, quickly covering the space he'd just exposed. So, he shifted his jaw a little downward, and felt Dirk's bottom lip move against his own. This process was repeated until the hand in the front of his shirt relaxed a little bit, Jake's eyes having closed long ago as the two pulled back and pushed forward, grabbing little bits of air into their lungs when they could as they kissed. 

And blast it if it wasn't as sweet as the candy scattered around their van.

Five minutes of probably the most infuriatingly lovely kissing later, and Jake could feel an odd heat around his eyes, mouth and stomach as Dirk began to pull away, but not before pressing an almost cute kiss to his bottom lip and forcing out a small, disappointed noise from Jake. 

Wasn't he annoyed earlier? Probably, but right now he was just unhappy about the coldness taking over his lips. "There. You've faced the consequences," Dirk managed to say in as steady of a voice as ever, and Jake fought to remember what he'd wanted to say to Dirk a mere handful of minutes ago. An argument maybe? Something like that. 

Dirk sat up straight, starting the car back up. He wasn't sure what to think of Jake's silence, and even though he'd kissed back he was left wondering if that was too sudden or too forward. Maybe he'd miscalculated. 

Wait, not possible, Striders don't miscalculate. 

He was about to pull the car out of park and back onto the road before the sound of a seat buckle being undone filled the van and Jake leaned over, kissing Dirk's cheek, right next to the edge of his shades. 

Damn it that was really cute. 

The burning feeling on Dirk's face was totally justified, a flush scattering across his nose and cheeks as he glanced at Jake before turning his eyes back to the road. Jake laughed at this, and sitting back down and buckling up once more he gave a happy smile, "So. Back to Two Truths and a Lie?" 

"That depends," Dirk started,having to clear his throat just a little as a foot pressing on the gas to get the van back up to speed, "is it gonna lead the way to more of that troublesome flirting of yours?"

"Oh most definitely." 

"Then it's your turn. Bring it English. " 

 

-

 

"So wait he built this from scratch?" The robotic voice questioned with a flashing question mark, and Dave nodded, stretched out across John's bed. He'd expected to sleep on the couch, honestly, but John was a stupid gentleman and insisted that he take the couch, seeing as Dave was a guest and all this fun stuff.

It was weird, staying with John because it felt like he'd known him for an eternity and a half and in reality, he'd known the dude for a month. They played off of each other like they'd known one another since childhood. He was already used to the defense of stupid movies, tales of his amazing pranks, his avid hatred for any baked good and showing off some of the magic tricks he knew which Dave would never admit were impressive. 

He knew John was going to college for computer programming, he loved cooking and that he was a total, unadulterated dork.

And John apparently knew just as much about him in return over their month of constant talking on Pesterchum, because he managed to volley every joke Dave made about him right back with its own twist of mocking Dave and his passions as well. 

All in all, they were friends.

Dave actually had a friend.

And due to his extreme introversion, he'd never really actually had one of those before. 

Hence the weirdness. 

"He builds shit constantly, but after Da Funk he decided to go all out and constructed the two personas," Dave explained, stretching and wiggling his toes just a touch as he did so. John was sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, and after he'd been offered this comfortable piece of heaven that was John's bed, Dave returned the favor of being cool and let John wear the Turntech helmet. 

"Wow," John said through the recorder, tipping the helmet from side to side, "It feels sturdy." 

"I think you'd get a kick out of Squarewave."

"The rap battle robot?" John clarified. 

"You'd totally get your ass sliced like a fine deli meat by him, but yeah."

"I would not!" John said, flashing a big x. 

"You would too, but then again he's like the fourth best rapper in the world." 

"Oh yeah? Behind you, Dirk and who?"

"And Bro, but not the point. You need to be Strider to even consider beating Squarewave in a rap battle. Like how I couldn't beat you or your dad in a prank war."

John lifted a finger to begin defending his point, but his shoulders sank a little as he nodded, "Alright, I can get what you mean." Glancing over at the clock and noticing that it was nearly one in the morning, John flashed an exclamation point, "Wow, I should probably give this back." His hands lifted to the helmet, looking for the switch to turn it off so he could give it back to Dave and be on his way, but couldn't seem to find it. 

After a moment of Dave just watching, he rolled his eyes behind his shades and sat up, scooting over on the bed so he was facing John. "Put your hands down, you're giving us robots a bad name with this."

John flashed an x before dropping his hands, and Dave's own lifted, his hands feeling across the back of the helmet for the small switch. When he found it, he paused for a second, looking between them and realizing he kind of had his arms wrapped over John's shoulders with a lot less space in between them than intended. 

The pause must have alerted John as well, because half a second before Dave shut the helmet off the screen went entirely red. He scooted back over to where he'd been laying with out a single hint that he'd noticed anything out of the ordinary while John slid the helmet off, his cheeks a little pink from the heat of the helmet before he gave a smile. "Thanks," He said, holding the helmet out to his friend. 

"Not a problem. Stay with our online division long enough and who knows, Dirk may make you one of your own," He shrugged, setting the helmet on the floor before slipping off his shades and putting them on the bedside table. 

"That would only be the coolest thing in history," John scoffed, his smile growing as he stood. "Alright, this is that part where I ditch you for the lumpy couch. Night, Dave." Giving the two finger salute, he chuckled before turning to the door. 

"Wait, John, you're going to make my conscience hate me," Dave said, and John stopped in his tracks. 

"What?" 

"This bed is totally kick ass not to mention fairly big. Actually I'm pretty sure it's one of those memory foam ones which are just killer. Being the wonderful person I am, I can't just kick you out for you to fuck up your back on a lumpy couch. So, here's what I'm thinking. You sleep on one side, I sleep on the other, we act like a nineteen fifties nuclear couple and stay to our respective sides, and everyone is a winner."

The pinkness of John's face was comparable to nothing Dave had seen, but he simply raised an eyebrow, "Are- Really?" 

"It's not a big deal," Dave assured, his mouth playing up into a smirk, "but yeah, really. Why not? It's just two people sleeping."

"I. . . I need to get changed into my pyjamas," John excused, making his way to the closet before grabbing two articles of clothing and leaving the room quickly. 

Well shit. That wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for. Maybe that had been too forward. It would just be sharing a bed as friends, but still, John didn't react as well as he'd hoped. Maybe he'd been too trusting in all of this, maybe he'd figured it wrong. 

Wait, not possible.

Striders don't miscalculate. 

Dave didn't realize he'd actually be tired enough to begin to pass out until he was jarred out of a light doze by the light in the room turning off and a door closing.

He nearly smiled as the bed next to him dipped down, and before he passed out he managed to mumble out, "Well night to you too honey," and got a laugh in response. 

 

-

 

"This is going to be my phone background," Roxy whispered, taking another picture with a near silent giggle. Of course, the picture was sent immediately to Jane as Rose and Roxy surveyed the situation, Rose looking damn near smug and Roxy looking positively thrilled. 

"With the sheer amount of time he's spent talking to him over the course of the past month, I could tell they'd made some type of connection," Rose murmured, her fingertips going to cover her lips as she smirked, "But I will admit I had no idea it was to this extent."

"Rose?" A voice called out from the hallway, and was immediately shushed by the pair of sisters. Of course it gave away Rose's position, Jade poking her head into John's room and looking at her friend. "What are you doing?" 

Rose simply pointed at the bed, and walking in Jade had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh. 

A certain performer had his arms wrapped tightly around the worlds biggest dork, one around his shoulders and the other around the small of his back while John remained facing him, curled against his chest. Both were snoring, had ridiculous hair, with rumpled sleep pants and slightly hitched tee shirts, Dave's mouth hanging open just a little. 

"Who is that?" Jade questioned. 

"Turntech," Rose said. 

"The guy he's been talking to? The musician?" Jade went a little wide eyed behind her round glasses.

"That's the one." 

"Awwww," She cooed, "We can use this to blackmail John forever."

"Precisely my thinking," Rose agreed, and Roxy only grinned wider. 

"Alright, wake them up now, I'm not having one of them snap out of their little cuddle puddle and think we were being creeps and just watching them sleep," Roxy ordered, which caused her younger sister to roll her eyes. 

"You realize that's exactly what we were doing, correct?" 

"Yeah, but they don't have to know that," Roxy pointed out, leaning over and pinching both of their sides lightly. 

Both boys jumped slightly, Dave letting out a small mumble and John giving a noise of annoyance. "Boys, breakfast," Roxy called loudly, beginning to walk out of the room with Rose and Jade in tow, "Unless you're craving something else for breakfast, then us three will go out for breakfast and leave you be."

John frowned at the sentence, his sleep addled brain not understanding why Jade had laughed at it. Instead, he burrowed into the warm source of heat in front of him, and felt arms wrap around him, holding him a bit closer. 

Wait arms? 

Cracking open an eye and seeing blurs, John blinked at the light before looking up, noticing that he was literally wrapped up in Dave's arms. 

"Uh-" He said softly. How did this happen? They'd been on far opposite sides of the bed, how did- The thought was cut off as something surprising happening, causing John to wake up just a little more.

"Shh. I'm comfortable," The blonde said softly, his eyes still closed as he yawned before shifting a little, his hands not leaving John for a second.

John was actually stunned. Dave was awake. Even more so, he was still cuddling. And asking John not to move. 

In Dave's world of darkness behind his eyelids, he heard silence before he felt John shift a little, obviously stretching before relaxing back against him. "You just cost me breakfast," His friend sighed moodily, and Dave smiled a little. 

"We'll grab something, but shhhhhhhh, this bed kicks total ass and I'm hella warm."

"What will we grab?" 

"John I swear to god if you wake me up fully I will never let you eat again."

"Geez, fine, fine." He felt John push on his back with his fingertips, "Didn't mean to push your buttons." 

The robot pun made Dave sigh deeply as John began giggling just a bit, the sun warming up the room happily as both boys relaxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((But come on seriously isn't the title funny now guys I can't be alone on this. Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com ^^))


	13. Human After All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Short, dumb, but I'm absolutely exhausted (I'm not really sure I even trust myself to post this without some horrible mistake) and the next chapter won't be ready for a day or so (10,000+ words I believe I am so sorry). Sorry for the long wait, but I love you guys!))

"You did what?" Cronus snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at Dirk and Jake, both of whom were standing in his office at 9 AM the day after leaving San Antonio. 

"Hired bodyguards," Dirk shrugged, repeating his statement, "Meaning along with the extra copies of the CD, we're also probably going to need a little company card to pay them. Or cash, that works too."

"I didn't authorize-" Cronus started before being interrupted. 

"Yeah. You did," Dirk assured, lifting a hand as if it would pacify him, "It was in our contract that we can use company funds to hire protection in the physical and legal sense. Meaning we're also going to have to get a lawyer, but if you guys wanna provide one I can deal with that pretty easily."

Dirk and Jake had ended up getting to Houston right around one in the morning, Dirk still being exhausted from performing and Jake just being tired. They'd ended up crashing at Jake's apartment (Dirk would never admit it was to avoid the thousands of innuendos and jokes that would come from Bro the moment the two of them stepped through the door together at his own place), shoes still on and both pairs of glasses still resting on respective faces. It was 8 in the morning when Dirk was woken up to a kiss on the forehead and a fresh tee shirt being thrown on his face as Jake gathered up food and supplies for the short trip back. It was 8:15 when Dirk flashstepped by when Jake's back was turned and messed all of it up, which got him yelled at as he laughed.

The time of arrival to the 13th floor was 8:52 AM, and Kankri let them into Cronus's office without so much as a sideways glance when they stepped up to his desk. Out of all of Cronus's clients, they were becoming the most familiar; They stopped by for both their own record deal with Cronus, and to grab or talk to Roxy quite often, and if Cronus was busy either Jake, Dirk or Dave would sit down and talk with Kankri until he was freed up.

And now side by side, Jake and Dirk were standing in the middle of an office with a view overlooking Houston, watching as Cronus damn near barred his teeth.

"I didn't authorize you spending a fuckton of bank on a few hired hands, that's bullshit," He repeated tersely, pushing to stand from his desk. He was wearing an Alternia Record label tee shirt, the letters faded from hundreds of washes and uses. He was also wearing an extremely annoyed expression, his mouth curled into the first real frown Dirk had seen on him. His fingers danced through files in different cabinets and over his desk, eventually coming across a manila folder that contained the Strider's contract. "I have more clients than you, you know, and I've never given a deal like to that to anyone." As he spoke, he brandished the folder as if it contained evidence that would back him up.

The moment he got it out of its manila prison and flipped it open his eyes flitted over it at light speed, and it was one line on the third page that caused him to stop completely. When he opened his mouth nearly twenty seconds later, having paused to read around the line just to make sure it was correct, Jake actually flinched at the volume, "KANKRI VANTAS."

A head poked in the doorway, and Kankri possesed a rather comfortable smirk along with an oversized, red knit sweater long enough to nearly cover his hands. "Yes sir?" 

"Why the actual fuck-" He began, but was cut off by Kankri raising his eyebrows and beginning to speak, leaning in to look at Cronus as one hand curled on the door frame to hold his balance. 

"That's triggering language, boss, please be more considerate," Kankri chimed in, his smirk growing, "But continue."

Cronus was glowering at the point, his fingers digging into his upper arms as they were crossed across his chest. "In what universe would I ever agree to the expenses of both physical protection as well as in the legal department for a band that hasn't even sold their first album globally?" 

"In the universe that you pinched my backside resulting in annoyance and the need to teach you a lesson, sir." Much to Dirk's surprise, he saw Kankri wink once before leaving the doorway and going back to his own desk, while Cronus let out an almost stressed growl. His hands left his arms, his palms digging into his eyes for a moment before his fingers slid through his slicked-back hair. 

The place filled with silence for a moment before Dirk cleared his throat, his hands going to his front pockets, "So are we just getting a credit card, or. . ?"

The slap that was administered to his chest by the back of Jake's hand rang through the air as Cronus let out a defeated and whiny grumble. 

 

-

"Dave." 

Silence.

"David."

A tired, sighing murmur left Dave's mouth, nothing that actually made sense, as he squeezed his arms around John once. He'd managed to get in only a half hour of extra sleep, and here he was being woken again. 

Great.

"Dave," The voice said, a little more insistently, "Wake up."

It sounded female, almost comparable to Roxy but not quite. So not John then ready to bug him about breakfast. 

The assurance that it wasn't John came from the sensation of the face buried against the crook of his own neck shifting, a sleepy sigh pouring forth right aginast his skin. 

Cracking an eye open and not being able to see with the morning light invading his retinas, he reached out for the end table, grabbing his shades and popping them open, sliding them onto his face. "H'llo?" 

"Roxy sent me in to get you," The girl said as Dave blinked a few times, trying to force blurry eyes to focus. Next to the bed, there was a blonde just like Roxy, with the same hair and eyes, hers a little more purple, but different noses. But matching black lipstick was noted. He remembered her. Rose, the chick that had been walking around Roxy's birthday party. Roxy's sister and John's roommate. Right. "Dirk is on the phone, he has something he needs to talk to you about for your album."

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment more in a sleepy attempt to wake up a little more, Dave just nodded, "Tell Roxy I'll be out in a sec, and also tell her the definition of the word 'anonymity', if you can."

Rose chuckled, "I think I can manage that," before leaving him to wake up in peace. 

Closing his eyes again, he let out a heavy sigh through his nose, turning his head so his forehead was resting against the top of John's hairline, the tip of his nose hitting the bridge of John's. "Egbert," He said, letting out a yawn, "Wakey wakey. It is bright and early and my brother is a dick for making me get up for a phone call so you're gonna suffer with me."

John cracked his eyes open and blinked a few times, shaking his head a little. What, he'd been desperate to get up for breakfast but not now? Dave rolled his eyes, wishing he could shake his head but knowing it would just wake John up. Giving another yawn as John's breathing fell back into a perfect pattern, he squeezed him once before letting him go, sliding out of the bed and throwing the blankets back over John. 

He scratched at the back of his head from where his hair was now lying flat, padding out of the room quietly as the bottoms of his pyjama pants brushed against the floor. Walking out into the living room, he was met with three smirking faces, and not a single phone in sight. 

Eyes narrowing behind his shades, he looked around. Rose and Roxy, and oh. That must be Jade, John's other roommate. John had talked about her and Rose enough that they really did match their descriptions, Rose's smirk matching Roxy's perfectly as Jade's was a bit more innocent. 

"What?" He asked, and Roxy just tipped his head to the sides back and forth. 

"So was it strictly cuddling, or. . . . ?" She questioned and Dave heaved a sigh. 

"Seriously? Can't a guy get bro cuddles on without getting judged by a bunch of girls?" 

"It wasn't judgement, per say. John simply discusses you so often to us that we were curious as to why it was taking you so long to wake up," Rose clarified.

"But you guys looked so happy, we couldn't wake you up," Jade chuckled, and it was then that Dave really woke up enough to realize. 

"He talked about me?"

"Well you are Turntech, so-" Rose started, and Dave looked at Roxy, who was suddenly seeming to realize what had happened. 

"Whoops," She managed to say, biting her bottom lip, "I fucked up." Rose opened her mouth to question her sister, but Dave butted in.

"Okay," He said, holding up both of his hands, "You two." His tone, the sternness, caused Rose to close her mouth as Jade raised both of her eyebrows. "You two. You are one of the," He took a second to count, "Six people on planet earth that have apparently been trusted with knowing that Dirk and I are Turntech and Di-Stri. Seems kinda dumb, like 'Why the fuck does it even matter', but the entire point of our music is to get the music out there but not our faces or names. Like not even a little idea. Meaning that as two of those six people, you two are sworn to secrecy in your own little ways. Write it in a diary, tell it to your cat, get it tattooed on your organs I don't care, just as long as it's not visible and no one else hears. Got it?"

"Our lips are sealed," Jade assured, doing the action for good measure and throwing the key away with a smile. 

"Agreed. Nothing will be said," Rose promised. 

"Good. Now where's the phone, doesn't Dirk need to talk to me or some shit?" 

"He hung up," Roxy shrugged, "But! Cronus saw how well the album sales went, and he did you a little favor." 

"A favor?" His nose scrunched ever so slightly, "A favor like he beat the living shit out of Dirk for me?" 

"A favor like he's putting your album on the market," Roxy grinned. 

"What? It doesn't even have an official name, we just gave it a bullshit one since Ampora made use bring it with us like a fucking teacher. We were supposed to name it when it was gonna get released." 

"Exactly!" Roxy sat down at the kitchen table, fiddling with her phone slightly as she beamed, "It was perfect, it shows just how big of assholes you and Dirky really are."

"He's calling our album 'Homework'? Fucking seriously?" Dave asked. 

"He also said to get you to talk to your little 'online' division, get them to sell a few copies." She pointedly looked at John's room, waggling her eyebrows a little bit, "Maybe give a small payment to the ring leader? Hmmmmmmmm?"

Dave was thankful for the shades as he blushed, luckily most of it hidden behind the tinted plastic as he walked over to the fridge, "I'll pay him with the respect and olive branch of friendship that I used to give you," He responded, grabbing out a carton of apple juice and a glass. 

"Wait, I get an olive branch?" A sleepy voice asked from the hallway, and Dave turned around to catch sight of a squinty eyed, unglassed and mussed hair John Egbert with a huge comforter wrapped around his shoulders walking from the hall. 

He nearly dropped the damn juice. 

"Metaphorical, which is the best one I can offer," Dave managed to get out calmly, pouring a glass of apple juice, "But if we get a dove up in here and send him off after flooding its home, it may bring some other cool shit that I can give you." 

Dave's ears picked up the sound of Roxy whispering, "Like his virginity?" to Rose, who had to cover her mouth with her fingertips to keep from laughing. 

"Anyways," He said loud enough to stop the Lalonde chatter, "I need you to whip up your little geek squad and get to work. We've got an album to get out to the public."

"Really?" John yawned out, rubbing at one eye with a closed fist as Dave fought the temptation to call him fucking adorable, "I didn't know you guys had an album out." 

"Well we do now."

"But you owe me breakfast!" He argued, frowning a little. 

"Oh so you guys are going out then?" Jade questioned, her expression sweet as the smirk she wore was devilish. 

Dave just gulped down his juice as Rose and Roxy began giggling, John just looking tired and confused at the joke that everybody but him seemed to be in on. 

 

-

 

"'Homework'? The makerth of thith really know how to make a compelling title," Sollux scoffed, flicking through the music as Karkat leaned on him tiredly. 

"Yeah, what assholes," Dave agreed wholeheartedly, his own legs crossed with his arms spread across the arm and back of the couch.

"It's ten in the morning, you dribbling carcass, you couldn't have waited til noon?" Karkat yawned out, glaring at John. 

"How are you still tired? It's ten in the morning! The girls woke us up before leaving and you need to get up too, it's way too late to be sleeping," John defended, crossing his arms over his chest as he scooted further up on the couch, away from where Karkat and Sollux were sitting on the floor and closer to Dave, who noted the new position with a raised eyebrow, "How late do you two stay up?" 

"We're both programming majorth," Sollux reminded, "You're acting like we ever even get theelp." As if on cue, Karkat yawned again, turning his head so his forehead was resting against Sollux's shoulder, blocking his eyes from the light. 

"We managed to crash at eight thirty," Karkat's voice scratched out, "And now we're here. On our only day with no classes. Helping out a band that would rather be two hunks of shined and morphed tin foil sell an album that four different hipsters will hear and download onto an iPod their parents put in their Easter baskets last year. Fucking perfect."

"Preach," Dave agreed, lifting his drink in a cheer before taking a drink. 

"ITuneth, Thoundcloud, and Thpotify," Sollux listed off, flicking through a few tabs, "Jutht want me to get them uploaded?" 

"What else would you even do?" Dave asked, and Sollux shrugged. 

"Well latht time I hacked Youtube and got their shit front page, I could probably do that here too."

"That's how those videos got hits? You fucking hacked Youtube?" The blonde asked, raising both of his eyebrows, "John, your friends are awesome." 

"Awesome and tired as piss," Karkat corrected, still resting against Sollux, "How much longer?" 

"Two more minuteth," Sollux assured, and John almost didn't catch the small action of Sollux resting his head for a split second on Karkat's in what appeared to be comfort. "Tho? John? What do you think the two band guyth would thay, should I work a little magic?" 

"It's so illegal-" John began to whine, but quickly let out a surprised sound as Dave covered his mouth with his hand. 

"They'd love it," He assured, watching from the side as Sollux's mouth curled into a smirk before his fingers began flying. 

"Good," Sollux said, "Thith shouldn't take too long then."

"You get two minutes," Karkat reminded. 

"Four?" 

"Two fuckface." 

"Well now it'th gonna be five, good job KK."

"Hey, Captor, do me a favor and eat a pile of bricks before jumping in a river and drowning?" 

"Well thomeone'th getting violent," Sollux grinned, "But shut up, we'll be back home thoon and go back to bed." 

"You two are like an old married couple," John chuckled, shaking his head a little. 

"Well if anything, I'm the huthband," Sollux claimed, causing Karkat to sputter. 

"Exfuckingcuse me?"

The rant that followed was completely one sided and borderline frustrated as Karkat defended hat no, he was the breadwinner and totally the male of their household, while Sollux just let him have at it. Karkat hadn't even realized fifteen minutes had passed from the beginning of his rant to the end, while during the duration Sollux finished his little parlor tricks and began to tug Karkat out of the room with a yawn and a hand at the back of his shirt with the assurance that no, he would not be helping with anything for the next week, especially not for John while Karkat thanked him for the decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com ^^))


	14. Fragments of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((It is five in the morning and I hate myself. In other news, this chapter is 6000+ words instead of the original 10000+ because I've decided to break the chapter in half. The next chapter is mostly about Bro, but I hope you guys enjoy this one, and thanks for reading!))

By the time Dirk and Jake got back to Dallas, Dave had found that both Rose and Jade were actually really fucking cool. For nearly three hours he'd sat around and talked to John, Rose, Roxy and Jade. Rose was way darker than Roxy, with a funnier, harsher twist on things and a way of bantering with Dave that felt having a sister. Well, a sister who can throw things back in his face before crushing him verbally while dismissing any insult he tried to lob. 

Of course they switched Pesterchum handles because how many times in your life do you come across someone you'd actually choose to be a sibling if you could? 

And then there was the ravenette with the round glasses and a huge smile. Jade was so much happier than pretty much anyone else he'd ever met (Even John, much to his surprise), and even through all her innocence she still turned out to be a little badass. She transitioned from talking about her dog, Beq, who still lived back home with her Grandpa, to talking about he gun collection that she missed desperately because "Rose and John won't let me keep any of them in the house! I don't know why they freak out over it so much, it's not like I'd be practicing with them." 

Her pesterchum handle was saved in his phone right under Rose's. 

Around 2 in the afternoon, the five of them were split up by Dirk and Jake showing up, telling Dave and Roxy it was time to hit the road and watching as the three college students seemed to deflate a little. 

The blonde excused himself to go 'grab his shit' from John's room. He was followed by John when he went back to his helmet, having to also grab his clothing he'd changed out of the night before while John leaned on the doorway. 

"So, off to Dallas?" John asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he wore a downtrodden expression. 

"Yup, and after that it's off to Austin, which the club English booked for us is next to the biggest college in Texas. You sure you wanna keep doing this college thing, you don't wanna call off getting your major and come with us?" Dave teased, grabbing his helmet up and brushing a few specks of dust off of it, "We'd wrap you in tin foil and have you dance in the background." John laughed, shaking his head. 

"I'm tempted," He said, his smile tugging up more on the right side seeing as his left cheek bone was still cut and swollen, "But I kinda wanna get a job someday."

"Well, who knows," Dave shrugged, walking back to the door and stopping seeing as John was kind of blocking it, "Maybe Daft Punk will get off the ground and you can work with us." 

"With? Wouldn't it be 'for'?"

"We wouldn't be anywhere without English's help, nor Sollux's or Cronus and Roxy's. We're all equals here," He said teasingly. 

"Wow, how valiant," John snorted, looking down at the floor as he continued to block Dave's exit. Not that the blonde was complaining, of course, but from the living room he could hear Dirk bitching that they were gonna be late to getting to their hotel and miss their check in. Without really thinking about the action, he lifted his hand, letting his thumb touch the long cut on John's cheek and watching John's eyes snapped up to meet his. 

"You're gonna keep this thing clean right? I don't want the reason you get a cool helmet to be that you contracted some flesh eating virus and you're pulling a Deadpool and hiding the scar it leaves," He jibbed, and John rolled his eyes. 

"Well actually I was gonna go rub some dirt in it, but you've swayed me." 

Dave brushed over the cut once more before dropping his hand, "Helping the world one person at a time by saving them from stupid decisions, that's me."

For a moment the room was silent as they looked at each other, eye contact even through Dave's shades and for a reason he couldn't place, Dave couldn't help but squirm. 

He still hadn't asked John to move. 

He didn't want to. 

And now he was left with a choice. 

He could ask John to move. Hell, he probably should seeing as he was going to get yelled at by his band member and his manager. 

But. 

He could just stay here. Which also seemed like a totally viable plan. Because this was a friend. One that he didn't get to see often that he talked to online, sure, but he still didn't get to actually physically see him. And if Cronus kept pimping them out on tours, he may not be able to head back to San Antonio for a long time. So he could stand in this room and just talk for a few more hours like they had last night and it would all be chill.

Dave wanted to at least say something. Dirk gave him shit all the time for how much he talked to John, and he'd just spent the night with him and all he'd done was cuddle and avoid eye contact, that didn't do absolutely anything. 

He wanted to say something, but for the first time in his life the words were stuck.

So when John broke eye contact and shifted to give Dave room to walk out, he stayed where he was, causing John to adopt a confused expression. "Dave?" 

"We're not gonna be able to chill for a long ass time, I'm savoring the moment dude," Dave clarified, "Dirk can hold his damn horses that he loves so much." 

"Savoring?" John smiled wider, despite his cheek, and Dave nodded. 

"Like a fine wine when you're wanting to get hammered like a rich person." John laughed at that, and smiling himself, Dave balled up the clothing under his arm and shifted his helmet in his arm. The blonde opened his mouth to speak, and paused, faltering. John looked almost expectant, and the words that fell out nearly made Dave wince, "Alright, I should probably ditch," he nodded at the door, "Care to walk me out?" 

"Well yeah, you're my guest," John scoffed, allowing Dave to step out before leading the way into the living room, where Roxy was hugging Rose and Jade was talking with Jake idly. 

"Took you long enough," Dirk deadpanned, and Dave shrugged. 

"You're the one who decided to stay back in the homeland last night so if we're late, that falls on you."

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" The older of the two asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I take after the people who raised me," Dave responded, and Dirk's mouth accidentally ticked into a smile before he gave a nod to John. 

"Thanks for keeping him out of the streets and off of drugs," Dirk said, and John actually looked confused for a moment. 

"Oh no, didn't I mention? Huge meth addict," Dave waved his hand with fake guilt, tossing his old clothes to his brother, "My life is a meth over it." 

Of course this made John burst out laughing and Dave even chuckled while Dirk picked up the two suitcases, stuffing Dave's dirty clothes in one and beginning to haul them downstairs with Jake and Roxy in tow. "At least try to hurry," Dirk tossed over his shoulder, and Dave gave a vague reassurance as he waited for John to calm down so he could at least say goodbye.

When it looked like John would be able to hear him over the sounds of his own laughter, Dave patted his shoulder once, causing John to look up at him. With the girls standing in the kitchen, there wasn't anything he could say that wouldn't be obvious, and the moment was lost anyways. Instead, he squeezed his shoulder once, "I'll see you later, man." When John didn't say anything, he let his hand drop and make its way to his pocket as he walked to the door. The blonde was almost fully into the hallway when he heard John speak, causing him to stop and turn around.

"Don't forget, you owe me breakfast," John reminded, his hands going into his pyjama bottom pockets as he gave a crooked smile, "I'm holding you to that."

"Wouldn't want you to do anything else," Dave assured, his free hand lifting to his shades to pull them up far enough that he could wink at John freely before dropping them once, giving a nod and disappearing out the front door. 

The apartment was silent as John let out a deep sigh, his eyes meeting the ground as he frowned with slumped shoulders. Both girls watched as he slumped and deflated, and he'd almost completely forgotten they were actually there until he was being spoken to. 

"You alright?" Jade asked, looking him over once as Rose began to prepare coffee for him silently. It was something that he'd done for years when he was stressed, relax with a cup of coffee, and he hated that Rose knew exactly when to start brewing some by this point. 

"What?" Looking up, he blinked before slapping on a false smile, "Yeah! I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" 

"Perhaps it's over the fact that you have been discussing him with us non-stop for a month and you just spent the night with him and things didn't progress the way you were hoping them to?" Rose questioned, and behind her the coffee pot hissed to life as the water began to run through. 

"Hey now, I wasn't looking for any 'progression'," John said, going a little wide eyed, "And I do not talk about him constantly."

"Sorry buddy but you kinda do," Jade pointed out, "And from what it sounded like when we were talking to Roxy, he was mentioning you more than a few times too."

John colored, but tried to wave them off, "He's a friend, guys!"

"Really?" Rose asked with a disbelieving and unconvinced expression, "You mean for us to believe that you have absolutely no feelings for this boy?" 

"Exactly," John lied, "He's just a friend. It's not that big of a deal, we'll always just be friends."

 

-

 

Down the hallway, Dirk glanced over at his brother. "Did you say anything?" 

"Chickened out," Dave responded, one hand in his pocket while the other held the helmet at his side, his expression blank. 

Dirk gave a small hum, and Jake glanced between the two of them with a confused expression before looking at Roxy for answers and only getting a small sigh from her in reply. Her hand patting Dave's back once as they reached the elevator, looking for something that may at least cheer him up. "They have killer icecream down the street from here," She offered up, and got a nod from Dave in return. 

It was a good enough response for her to give him a smile, hugging him around the shoulders with one arm and finding herself not surprised when his head dropped to her shoulder with a sad little 'thunk'.

 

-

 

The next three weeks could only be described as utter chaos. They didn't talk to Cronus even once, even though he tried to call a few times. They just kept getting caught up in different situations. 

Equius and Nepeta actually accompanied them on their little tour, which was surprisingly fun. It was a pain in the ass getting Equius to even eat seeing as he wasn't sure that what he was putting in his mouth was void of a product of animal suffering, but soon enough Nepeta began ordering steaks just to piss him off and force him to eat his salads so he could try and set a good example. 

Dirk and Equius managed to hit it off, spending a good chunk of time talking about their shared fascination with horses and Equius's love of their helmets, seeing as he rather enjoyed engineering himself. Nepeta spent her free time chatting with Dave or teaching Jake a few things about self defense, seeing as he was good with a gun but not necessarily with his fists. 

"And what am I doing wrong now?" He asked, his stance for holding his pistol impeccable while Nepeta shook her head. They were in one of the warm up rooms in the third club they'd been to in Dallas, with Dave texting John and Dirk working on his helmet as Equius worked on Dave's, "My stance is perfect, I don't see what could possibly-" 

"Your gun can be disarmed in an instant!" She pointed out, and in one swift movement her leg flew in a perfect arch, her ankle hitting his wrist and causing his hand to go limp, the gun dropping to the ground. 

Jake's brow furrowed as he flicked his wrist in pain, reaching down to grab his beloved Beretta, "Gadzooks, that hurts. Well then what would you suggest?" 

"Unless you're about to pull the trigger, don't have your arm tightened," Nepeta suggested, "Your arm can take shock a lot easier and it makes it easier to keep the gun up." 

"Where did you learn all of this?" He asked, trying the new idea as he glanced at her. 

"I was going to enter the army, but those dreams kinda got crushed. And Equius taught me a lot too," She smiled, glancing over at her friend and receiving a nod in return. 

A nod seemed to sum up their relationship fairly well. Nepeta was happy go lucky but capable of handling herself, while Equius was a bit more reserved but also far more strict. Later that same day he'd ended up sporting Nepeta's hat as she took his leather gloves, using an overly deep voice and pretending to be him as he just sighed deeply. 

He was kind of a push over when it came to her on a few things, but overall he was fairly terse.

So far the Striders had seen him fight once, while Nepeta was running back to the van to get something and two men in the middle of the club began fighting. He'd asked them to break it up and they hadn't, but when a bystander took an elbow to the jaw he managed to lift them both off the ground by gripping the fronts of their shirts, threatening to send them to the police.

He held them, two grown men, off the ground fully for damn near a full minute before letting them drop like lead, and it allowed Dave to realize something. 

Equius was terrifyingly strong. 

Together he and Nepeta made a good team, and over the three weeks they spent accompanying them, Dave would dare say they even became friends. 

So after performing at a crowd of thirteen hundred people in Austin, they dropped them back in San Antonio with an 'I am uninjured thanks to my awesome bodyguard' bonus along with the pay that they'd earned and the assurance that next time they went on 'tour', the two of them had a job. 

John ended up getting extremely butthurt over the fact that Dave hadn't stopped by to say hello when they were driving through San Antonio, but Dave eventually managed to sate him with the promise that he'd stop back by to visit all three of them after he was home for a little while. He wanted to see them immediately and all, sure, but after a month of being away from home Dave was just desperate to sleep in his own bed.

Their van filled with equipment stopped two places in Houston; the first place was Roxy's house, and the second was Jake's. The third ended up being the Strider household, where both boys expected to park the car, get out, get upstairs and sleep for a month.

Speaking of sleep, the moment they walked into the apartment (which was surprisingly clean), they caught sight of their brother. Bro was managing to catch a nap on the couch, and judging by the suit case sitting at the end of said couch and the dress shirt that he was crashed in, he was about to skip out on them for another trip. 

Pity he wasn't awake to talk or anything. 

The shoe to the face woke him up well enough though. 

He sat up more on reflex than anything, a hand going for a sword on his side that he didn't have with him and causing him to actually take in what had happened. The moment his gaze landed on his brothers, he let out a small huff of air, grabbing his shades from the end table. "Wow, here I was thinking that I'd be happy about seeing you utter dicks after so long," Bro griped, sitting up and rubbing the spot where the sole of the shoe had hit him in the cheek before sliding his shades on. 

"Well we're glad we're back too. Are you coming or going?" Dave asked, and Bro stretched a little, checking his phone for the time and pushing himself to stand. 

"Going. New York, six days and I'm due at the airport in twenty three minutes. Think you can avoid destroying the place?" 

"We'll probably still be sleeping when you get back, so yeah," Dirk admitted, and Bro gave a frown with a shrug, summing up his feeling of, 'makes sense'.

"Well try not to fuck shit up and actually eat once in a while. I left a hundred on the table, that should get you through." His fingers hooked into the handle of his bag as he stood fully, his shades in place but his hat in hand. Walking past them with his bag in tow, he gave them each a pat on the back, "Welcome home guys, it's good to see you safe and not dead in a ditch. I'll see you in a week." 

"Love you too," Dave and Dirk responded sarcastically in response, and Bro gave a smile to himself as the door closed behind him. 

The door fell shut heavily right as Dave's phone rang, and he gave a low groan, pulling it from his pocket. The contact name read 'Greaser', and sliding the 'answer' bar, he walked to sit down on the couch, "Sup Cronus?" 

"You and your brother need to get over here pronto. Roxy just called saying you guys are back in Houston and we need to have a little. . . discussion." 

Dave paused at this, his brow furrowing. He didn't like Cronus's cold tone "Is everything chill?" 

"Just get here ASAP, alright?" The line went dead as Dirk gave a questioning look, and Dave stood once more, this time the small bit of joy he had with being home dampened. 

"What's up?" Dirk asked, and watched as his brother began to walk back out the door, "Where the fuck are you going?" 

"Come on, we've got a meeting with our boss." 

"What the fuck, we just got home, can't it wait?" Dirk watched his brother slip his shoes on and followed suit, sighing.

"He sounded pretty serious, maybe shit went wrong or something." 

Following Dave out the door, Dirk let his head loll back with a huff as they walked, "What could have gone wrong?" 

Dave thought about it for a moment. They couldn't have done anything wrong recently, they hadn't even been in town. And on tour people had been happy enough. Beginning to head down the stairs, he was lost in thought for a moment before he realized, "Our album."

He couldn't see Dirk, seeing as he was in front of him, but the sound of his voice was enough to tell how he felt. " . . . . Oh fuck. We put that on the market didn't we." 

"Shit, what if it was a flop?" Dave wondered aloud. They'd both forgotten that they'd even had an album that was released to the public, how the fuck can you forget something like that? "What if it did horribly?" 

"Then Cronus would probably want to drop us," Dirk reasoned, and both of them fell silent. 

The ride to Alternia records was tense, the familiar path they'd taken dozens of times now feeling cold. 

 

-

 

"Kankri," Dave said the moment he saw the brunette, "What the-"

"You two," Kankri said in a stern tone, green eyes alight as he crossed his arms across his red clad chest, "have some nerve avoiding both my and Cronus's attempts to contact you over the past few weeks." 

"We were a little busy," Dirk reminded, now a bit curious as to why Kankri was annoyed with them. Shit, maybe they had fucked up. 

"Not too busy to listen to a phone call," He reprimanded, his eyes narrowing before he turned around, "Follow me, Cro needs to speak to you." He began to walk down the hallway, and Dave blinked before raising an eyebrow.

"'Cro'?" Dave repeated, his expression incredulous as Kankri's annoyed demeanor faltered, revealing a blush. He'd never called him that, that was a pet name. Which, actually, was kind of funny.

"Mr. Ampora," Kankri corrected, and before either of the blondes could say anything more they were being led directly into Cronus's office. 

He looked up from the papers on his desk, and the moment he saw Dave and Dirk he stood, walking from behind his desk with a stern expression and-

Wrapping an arm around each of them, patting them on the back with a large grin. 

. . . What? 

"What did we miss?" Dave asked, his voice muffled seeing as his mouth was pressed into Cronus's jacket by accident due to the surprise embrace and height difference. 

"You've gone gold!" Cronus said, pulling back and putting a solid hand on each of their shoulders. 

"Gold?" Dirk repeated. 

"In England, but you you may pass that," He lifted his hand away from Dave's shoulder for a moment to wave it dismissively, but both boys were still wearing confusion like it was a new fashion trend.

"Cronus what the fuck are you talking about?" Dirk murmured.

"Your album," Cronus clarified, grinning even wider and revealing sharp teeth with a lit up expression, "You two have sold just over 500,000 copies in England. Most of the sales in Europe are online, but get this boys: You're about five thousand away from reaching Platinum in both France and Belgium."

"Platinum?" Dave repeated numbly, "Like Platinum record platinum? A million copies sold platinum? That platinum? In two different places?" 

"It's been three weeks, how did that even happen?" Dirk asked, running a hand through his hair as his eyes widened a bit behind his shades. 

"Most of it was just because you guys managed to get yourselves popular online," Cronus admitted, "But for a first album, this is amazing news. Over two and a half million albums world wide, that's fantastic."

"Thank Sollux for that," Dave said, his tone different than usual as he tried to wrap his mind around this new information. 

"I'm sending him a fucking car if I get the chance," Cronus assured, "Because right now you guys are listed at the top of the charts in a few different countries. The BPI, SNEP and BEA all contacted, obviously, but I've also gotten a few messages from MC-"

"I don't know what these are, Cronus," Dirk reminded, and their boss sighed. 

"BPI is British records, SNEP being France, BEA is Belgium and MC is Canada. Point being you guys are climbing the carts in Canada and here too." 

"There's just no way there can be that many sold," The younger blonde repeated, "How-"

"You two go home, get some rest, and celebrate, alright?" Cronus said, and heading back to his desk he grabbed a printed sheet of paper with perforation on it, handing it to Dirk, seeing as Dave didn't seem to be completely with it, "And this, after taxes have been taken off, is your cut." 

Dirk looked at the paper before shaking his head, "No fucking way." 

"How much?" Dave asked, and Dirk just passed over the paper. 

That was a lot of zeros.

"Is this a joke?" Dave questioned, and Cronus shook his head. 

"That's all yours, you two. Soon enough your money's just gonna be put in an account, but I thought an initial check would be a good thing for you guys." 

"I-" Dave's throat clicked as he closed his mouth again, at a loss for what to say. Luckily, Cronus had plenty of words for the lot of them, and gave another smile. 

"Go, you guys. You've been gone for weeks, go get some rest and when you wake up you can celebrate a little, yeah?" 

Both Dave and Dirk nodded dumbly in unison, and allowed themselves to be whisked out of Cronus's office by a happy boss. 

Even down the elevator, they were both silent. 'Processing' was an ironic statement that fit scarily well with what was happening in each of their minds, and by the time they were both sitting in the car, Dirk was just looking at the steering wheel as Dave made eye contact with a lamp post. 

"three point eight million," Dirk repeated, glancing at the paper, "And that's after taxes?" 

"The math adds up," Dave said, "I've been thinking it through and even with really rough numbers, it adds up. At fifteen dollars an album with two point five million albums sold it all adds up. I just don't have any idea what the fuck we're supposed to do with this."

Dirk was quiet as he plucked at his pinky nail, his eyes still boring into the steering wheel, "We should probably pay Jake. And John. And Sollux, and Roxy, and send a little something to Nepeta and Equius."

"How much for each?"

"Shit. Alright," Dirk bit the inside of his cheek, "Roxy and Jake did the most, so they get the most. Next would be Sollux, then John, then Nep and Eq."

"Agreed. What's a good start for them?" Dave questioned, looking up at his brother. 

"One fifty for Lalonde and English, one for Sollux and his loud friend, seventy five for your boy toy and fifty for each of our body guards?" 

"Eh. We could make it an even two for Roxy and Jake. They did a lot of work. Not to mention that Sollux has to put up with Karkat on the daily. How about two for Jake and Roxy, one fifty for Sollux and Karkat, one for John and seventy five for Equius and Nepeta?" 

"Sounds good. It's not like we're gonna miss it that much," said Dirk. 

"So that adds up to," Dave thought for a moment, "eight hundred thousand. Leaving us with three million," Dave said, nodding, "Sounds good to me."

"Alright, well what about the money after that?" 

"Oh after that? I've got a plan," Dave assured, and Dirk turned on the car, pulling out of park. 

"Spill, little man."

 

-

 

"Dirk!" The smile that Jake wore was bright, the Englishman having just woken up after crashing as soon as he could have when he'd gotten home the day before. It was rather early in the morning for a visit, considering they'd only gotten back a day ago and Jake had just rolled out of bed, but he wasn't about to complain. It was always nice, seeing the blonde, "Come in." 

Stepping back to make room for Dirk, Jake gave a small yawn and made his way into the kitchen, grabbing down a mug for coffee, "Thirsty?" 

"I'm good," Dirk assured, sitting down at the kitchen island with a typically blank expression. He watched as Jake poured himself coffee, turning to face Dirk as he sipped at it idly seeing as it was too hot to drink just yet. 

"So, what brings you around?" Jake queried, "I thought you and Dave would be staying in and sleeping for a week considering how much you were complaining."

"What, can't I stop by to see a cute guy with bed head?" Dirk asked, leaning his forearms on the island as Jake rolled his eyes behind his glasses. 

"Not usually, but you're lucky in the sense that I was freshly awoken. Now come on, what is it? Is everything alright?" 

Dirk scratched the back of his head, a hand sliding down to his back pants pocket and pulling out a check, "Yeah, everything's peachy. Just thought I'd drop something off for you." 

"Oh?" Jake asked, and when the piece of paper was extended to him he smiled, "Well howdy. What is it?" 

"Read," Dirk ordered, and Jake rolled his eyes before looking down at the thin sheet. 

"What- I-" A hand went to cover his mouth as he read, and reread, and reread again, "Holy fucking mackerel," He looked up at Dirk with wide eyes, the blonde looking smug, "Cheese and fucking crackers, is this legitimate?" 

"Totally legit."

"I-" He looked at the sheet as if it were both a precious new gun and a venomous snake, "Dirk, I didn't earn this," He tried to say, looking slightly guilty as Dirk waved him off. 

"You set up our entire tour, got us booked at several different locations, learned our material, came with us on an annoying ass drive around Texas and manage to kick total ass at kissing. Trust me, you've earned this." 

Jake was out of the kitchen and around the island in a second, his hands meeting Dirk's face as he pulled him in for a kiss. And then another. And another. And another. They were all extremely short, with Jake speaking between them, "This is," Kiss, "Ridiculous," Kiss, "And wonderful," Kiss, "You're bloody wonderful," Kiss, "Thank you so much-"

Dirk eventually had to grab his face and hold it comparable to how his own was being held so he could get one kiss in that was longer than a single second, "Dude." Kissing him, a bit slower, he tasted both coffee and morning breath, "Fucking chill."

Jake just smiled widely against Dirk's mouth, kissing him again, "I can't do anything but babble, just- Thank you."

"Any time, sir manager," Dirk assured, his fingers still resting against Jake's face as he relaxed a little, "Now please, tell me you're going to move out of these creepy ass apartments."

Jake could only laugh as his forehead fell against Dirk's, "I'll move to somewhere where I don't feel obligated to worry about daytime robberies, how about that?" 

 

-

 

God it was too early to wake up like this. 

The ringing and knocking at their door was incessant, and the sound of a disgruntled Karkat arose against his chest as Sollux began rubbing at his eyes with a closed fist. 

"Alright, today's the day that someone's going to get my fist shoved so far down their throat I can grab the base of their spine and rip it out to beat them like a pinata," Karkat mumbled, with no real fire in his words. The bedroom around them was dark, black drapes covering the windows to avoid any extra sunlight as both of their computers whirred in the corner softly, white screens casting a few shadows around them. Sollux didn't know the time for the life of himself, but he did know that they'd managed to get to bed roughly half an hour before the dick at their door decided it seemed like a good enough object to play drums on. 

"Relath," Sollux ordered, kissing the top of Karkat's head before sliding out of bed his bed, feeling all of his limbs heavy and prickling with sleep, "Go back to bed." 

Karkat really didn't need to be told twice, seeing as he and Sollux had both stayed up for days and three different class assignments and now had a day free of classes or responsibilities. By the time he reached the bedroom door, Karkat was already snoring softly, which caused Sollux to be a bit quieter while closing the door. 

The knocking got louder, and Sollux growled a little under his breath as he slumped to the front of their apartment. What colossal prick decided it was necessary to play room service and wake them up? 

Practically ripping the front door open and noticing that the person standing in front of him was practically a large smudge without his glasses, Sollux glared, "Who the fuck are you?" 

"Are you really that blind without the glasses?" A voice asked, and Sollux recognized it. 

"Dave?" He was actually confused at that. He'd met the guy once, and didn't he live in Houston or something? Why the fuck was he busting down his front door this early? 

"Got something for you, but you don't have glasses so you can't read it," Dave made a gesture that may have been a shrug, "Anyways here's a slip of really important paper, enjoy." 

Sollux rolled his eyes, running a hand through his bedhead, "What'th it thay, dickhead?" 

"It says that Daft Punk gave you a hundred and fifty thousand dollars for your help," Dave said, and Sollux let out a snort. 

"I'm tired and practically blind, you don't need to be a sarcastic dick about it." Reaching out, he grabbed the paper and folded it in half, "I'll have Karkat tell me what it really thayth. Anything elthe?" 

For a reason that Sollux couldn't understand, Dave seemed to be chuckling, but he could tell that he waved his hand, "Nah, nothing else bro. Enjoy reading your note with your roomie, I'll. . . See you guys later I guess." 

"Thee ya," He responded before closing the door harder than necessary. What a waste of fucking time. 

The bed dipped next to Karkat enough to wake him up a little as Sollux crawled back into bed, flopping down against the pillow. 

"So?" Karkat asked, and he felt something hit his face. "Okay, that works too." 

"My glatheth are by my computer, and I can't read it. What'th it thay?" He asked, and felt Karkat take the piece of paper before a crinkling noise sounded. 

And then, silence. 

"KK?" 

"Oh my god." 

Sollux's brow furrowed at that as he sat up, looking in the general direction of his roommate, "What?" 

"It's a check."

. . . He was almost sure that Dave had been fucking with him. "From Daft Punk?" 

"I thought you said you couldn't read it, fuckface," Karkat scoffed, and a hand reached out blindly to flick him on the back of the head. 

"Dave told me, he'th the one who delivered it. Mutht work with them or thomething. How much ith it for?" 

"One hundred and fifty thousand," Karkat breathed out, and Sollux stopped completely. 

"I thought he wath fucking with me."

"Dude you've got a hundred and fifty thousand bucks."

Sollux covered his hands with his face, "You better not be kidding." 

"Oh my fuck," Karkat sounded serious enough, "They really gave you money for that. A lot of fucking money." 

Sollux let out a noise that Karkat couldn't decipher, but soon he found himself with a lapful of a lisping mess, who was hiding his face in his hands still. "That'th a lot of fucking money." 

"Look, being a fucking dweeb pays off," Karkat pointed out, and Sollux gave a relieved laugh, his hands and face dropping to Karkat's shoulder. "So wait, does this mean you're getting rent for this month?" 

"You're an athhole," Sollux accused, and Karkat just chuckled.

 

-

Someone had been knocking at the door for about thirty seconds, and John couldn't tell whether to feel guilty for not answering it yet or annoyed that the person was being so damn persistent. 

"Coming!"

Two more rings and a knock sounded before the door bell began ringing repetitively, and John hopped into the living room, trying to get his pants pulled up all the way and button them as well as he tugged his shirt the rest of the way down. He was the only one in the apartment, Rose having gone out for breakfast and Jade at her early classes. It was John's day off, hence the 'I don't have to wear clothing just yet' logic that had gotten him here. 

Opening the door and not looking at who was standing in the entryway, he tilted his head downwards, his fingers brushing through his hair in an attempt to make it orderly, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude, I had to get dressed."

"It's fine," A recognizable voice assured, and in an instant John's head snapped upwards, making eye contact with a familiar pair of aviators. The mouth below them was slanted in an easy smirk, and two white eyebrows wiggled a little, "But it's a shame that you had to put on clothes." 

Dave nearly stumbled as he was hugged, reminiscent of the tackle that he'd gotten two weeks prior when John had broken his voice chip. John was laughing in his ear, and damn it if it wasn't contagious because Dave chuckled in return, his arms wrapping back around John's waist and patting once in a comforting manner. "Why are you back here? Not that I'm complaining, I just thought you were staying home for a while," John asked, grinning and squeezing Dave one before letting go. 

"I come bearing gifts," Dave assured, handing John a folded up check, "Because it turns out that we actually sold a few copies of Homework and you deserve a cut for being the online division manager."

"Seriously?" John lit up like a Christmas tree, unfolding the check, "How many did you- Holy shit!" His eyes went as wide as they could as he looked at the check before his gaze shifted to Dave, "This is my cut?" 

"Trust me, it's fair," Dave assured, and John just stared at the paper for a moment, "But seeing as you've got a little cash on you, I think you should take me out to breakfast."

"But you owed me," John reminded, even as his mouth pulled into a smile. 

"Eh," He shrugged, offering a charming smile, "Be a gentleman John, they always pay for the first date. And good thing you got pants on, people find the opposite really unacceptable in public." Nodding towards the hallway, he said, "So, ready to go?"

John was still looking at the paper before looking up at Dave and sniggering a little, "Here, let me slip on my shoes and we'll go."

"Please don't tell me-"

"Yes, they are the Heelys, before you even say anything."

"God damn it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a comment below ^^ Thanks for reading!))


	15. Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Oh no, baby Bro and little tiny Striders. Anyways, there is one mention of physical abuse that while brief, I would hate for anyone to be upset or triggered by. So please read with caution, darlings! Besides that it's a moderately happy chapter, and you get a bit of insight on their past which is cool ^^ Kinda just a bonus chapter, it doesn't have much to do with the main plot, but it's still cool to read~ Hope you enjoy!))

"You can't leave again," Brodrick argued, standing up from the couch and looking at his parents, "You just got back from visiting Aunt whatever her name is yesterday. Dave's been asking about you guys non-stop, you haven't been home in weeks." 

"Aunt Calli, honey," His mother responded in a falsely sweet tone, a head of white blonde hair with curls down to the small of her back turning to look at him with a plastic smile, "And we'll only be gone a few days, Davie will be okay."

"Don't call him that," Brodrick sighed, "He hates that. It's Dave. And where are you going this time?" The young adult challenged. From the room he shared with Dirk and Dave, he could hear the sounds and beeping of what sounded like a video game, and silently hoped that Dirk would be a bit quieter. It had taken nearly an hour to get Dave down for a nap and he really wasn't looking forward to repeating the process. 

As if on cue, the sound nearly disappeared, and the crappy apartment around them went silent once more. 

"Brodrick," His father said in a rough tone, "It doesn't matter. You're not the adult of the house, stop acting like you are." Their father had dark brown hair, the absolute opposite of their mother's white blonde and a nose that all three boys possessed. 

Bro's professional opinion? 

Both of his parents were assholes. 

He was fifteen, and could count on his fingers how often they were home for longer than a week during a year. Half of the relatives they claimed to visit he was pretty fucking sure didn't even exist, and when they did get back they'd flit off to casinos and bars like moths to a flame. 

Every time they were gone, Dave was incessant. He didn't call them Mom and Dad, he called them "Them." But he would always ask if 'they' were coming home, or if he would get to see 'them' any time soon. Bro assumed it was because no one in the house called them Mom and Dad, because they weren't. 

Parents talked to their children, took care of them, talked to them, loved them, actually knew them. However the Strider parents knew their kids' names, and that was basically the extent of it all. And even that they fucked up on. They would leave money before they left, and Bro would have to find a way to make it stretch for some undetermined amount of time. He would have to hear Dave asking every day, "Where are they? Are they coming back?" 

There was more than once that he couldn't answer confidently that yes, they were coming back. And at fifteen, there was more than once that he wondered what the fuck was wrong with his life. 

Luckily Dirk tried to help the most that he could. He was nine, but he could at least keep an eye on Dave while Bro ran out to get food or supplies needed around the house. Which honestly shouldn't have even counted as a home in any sense. 

Two bedrooms, the kitchen and the living room were connected, and rats chewed through any food that they put in the cupboards. 

The only reason he didn't leave this life behind was that he had two younger brothers that he could make sure didn't grow up in this sort of shithole. Not the one that he'd been faced with nearly his entire life with parents who may as well have not been there. 

"I may as well be," He snapped back, and watched as his fathers eyes narrowed, "I know Dirk and Dave better than you two do, and you're their fucking parents, I am the adult of the house. You're never here, you don't even care." 

"Don't use that sort of language in my household," His father responded strictly, the dark circles under his eyes giving him a sinister expression. That didn't stop Brodrick, however, from pushing up on the balls of his feet and getting his face as close to his fathers as he could considering the height difference. 

"Ass, damn, bitch, cock, fuck, cunt, rot in hell you piece of shi-" 

The hit that was administered was directly over his eye, causing him to stumble back as his mother tisked her tongue. He nearly cursed under his breath, but thought better of it and instead pressed a palm to his right eye, swallowing. Fuck, that hurt. 

"Honey, you should know better," She chastised lightly, and for the life of himself through a world filled with dull aching and skin that was already stretching into a swollen shiner, Bro couldn't tell who she was talking to, "Now come on, we both need to go. Give me a hug." 

Brodrick didn't move, "Maybe give Dirk and Dave a hug, they'd like it more."

"We can't hint them on on the fact that we're leaving again," His father stated, standing up a bit straighter, "They'd be upset." 

"Can't understand why," Bro scoffed under his breath with a small sigh, and from his now swelling eye's peripheral vision could see his father take a step forward in a way that was an attempt to be intimidating. 

At this point? Bro didn't even flinch, he didn't give a shit. 

"Honey, come on," His wife cooed, grabbing his forearm, "Get the bags to the car would you?" 

The moment her husband had left the apartment, Bro's mother wrapped her arms around him in a hug, even as he stayed turned away with one hand at his side and the other pressed against his eye. "I'll talk to him," She promised, "We left money on the counter, we'll only be gone a few days alright?"

"Sure," He shrugged, and she let go of him with another carved from granite smile. 

"Give the boys my love. Bye, honey."

The door fell shut with a loud thud and the click of heels, and Dirk peeked his head out of their bedroom with a raised eyebrow. "They gone yet?"

"'Are' they gone yet," Brodrick corrected, letting out a wince when he pulled his hand away from his eye, "And yeah, they are." 

"What happened?" Dirk asked, walking out into the living room with a raised eyebrow. The skin around his bro's eye was beginning to raise, a purple color taking over with the redness of broken capillaries outlining it. 

"Pissed the old man off," He shrugged, turning to go into the kitchen area to get some ice, "It'll be fine."

"Is your face okay?" A younger voice asked, and both Bro and Dirk shifted enough to see their brother walk out, his blankets from his nap still wrapped around his shoulders and eyes squinted at the light, "It looks like an ouch."

"My eye just hurts a little, buddy," Bro assured, glancing at Dirk with a small nod and getting the silent agreement across that they wouldn't specify where how it happened, "You wanna go back to sleep? I'll make food." 

Dave shook his head before he seemed to get an idea, dropping his blankets and turning around quickly, scrambling back to their room. His siblings were curious enough, but Dirk still picked up his Gameboy from the coffee table while Bro continued into the kitchen. When he came out about two minutes later, Bro already had ice pressed to his eye and Dirk was sitting on the couch, watching as the kid brought out a pair of pointed shades. 

"We got them at the store, remember?" Dave said, walking over to Bro and offering them up. 

Bro remembered it, it had only been about a week ago. Dirk had run out of good pants and Dave was growing out of his shirts, so he took them to the thrift shops around town and Dave had gone berserk over this one pair of sunglasses. They were two bucks so Bro allowed it, but when they got outside and got it out of the bag it had been in, Dave tried them on and found that they were too big for his face. 

Bro looked down at the pointed shades and at his brother, who wiggled them a little, "If they cover it maybe it won't hurt a lot," Dave reasoned, and both Dirk and Bro chuckled as Bro took the glasses from his hand, slipping them on. 

"Well?" He asked, tipping his head up sarcastically while Dirk rolled his eyes. 

"Can't even tell it's there," Dirk assured, giving a thumbs up while Dave looked proud of himself for fixing the problem. 

"Does it still hurt?" Dave asked, and Bro shook his head, patting his little brother's back. 

"Not at all, little man. It was a good idea." 

"Well you've gotta keep them on then," Dave said, yawning, "to make it not hurt again." 

"Come on buddy," Bro sighed, scooping Dave up, "You hardly got any sleep." 

"I've got him," Dirk assured, walking over and allowing Dave to be passed off, "Get some ice on that. And do you think you can grab some food for dinner? We're pretty much out." 

"Yeah," Bro sighed, looking at the counter. Two twenties were under an empty cup, and as Dirk carried Dave back to their bedroom Bro walked over, plucking them up. From the room, he could hear Dave ask if he could have Lil Cal, which caused Bro's mouth to pull into a small smile. Brodric made the metal order of getting food, cooking, getting Dirk and Dave to bed, cleaning and then homework as he grabbed his orange hat, making his way to the door. 

They promised that it would just be a few days. All he had to do was wait a few days.

 

-

 

"Dave? Dirk? I got you s-" Bro opened the front door to their apartment, and was met with a completely empty home.

There was nothing. No couches, no TV, none of the stupid robotic parts that Dirk left lying around, abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

His shades slid up to his hairline as he dropped his bag in the doorway, flash stepping into the apartment and through it. Dirk's room? Empty. Same with Dave's. Even his own, just fucking nothing. Was it normal for his heart to beat in his throat? Walking back into the living room and pulling out his phone, he was about to call his brothers when something caught his eye. 

A note, sitting under and empty glass with a pair of keys on top of it. All it said was an address, it didn't even have Dirk and Dave's normal respective signatures, and Bro snatched it up without a second thought, grabbing his bag on the way out of the apartment that they'd been in for fourteen years without even a glance backwards. 

The door slammed shut with an unnoticed air of finality, Bro already making his way down the stairs.

 

-

 

"And you're sure he's coming back today?" Dave asked, his head lolling back against the new leather sofa, his fingers tapping out a soft beat on his legs. 

"Pretty fucking sure bro," Dirk sighed, finishing stacking the X-Box games they'd gotten and beginning to work on the PS3 and PS4 ones, "He said he'd be back today last time I talked to him. Maybe he's just having a hard time finding the place?" 

Dirk's theory was disproved as there was a jingling sound at the front door, and both blondes lifted their heads and watched as Bro shoved through the door, the smallest outlines of stress showing on his face. "Dave? Dirk? W-"

"Welcome home," Dave greeted. 

Bro paused, his bag still clutched tightly in his hand as his eyes fell on the sight of both of his brothers, lounging in the living room of the place he'd just scavenged through Houston for, "Home? I just went home and there was n-"

"This?" Dirk lifted his hands, modeling the room a little, "This is home." 

"What?" Bro asked, and Dirk rolled his eyes behind their matching pointed shades. 

"This? This big place? Hooooooome." Dirk clarified slowly, as if Bro were a child and got the finger in return.

And it was then that Bro actually looked around. A fully separate kitchen which was all dark woods, a huge living room that had leather couches and a television with a sound system to die for. Below it were several different gaming systems, and the ceiling was actually vaulted, something that Bro had only seen in the homes of some of his clients. All the accents were oranges and reds, no surprise there, but it was all. . . New. 

"How did you afford this?" Bro asked with narrowed eyes, and Dave scoffed. 

"Wow, that's the first thing you say? How about 'Wow this place kicks ass' or 'Thanks little bros, this is the best thing ever'?" 

"'Homework' made it's debut," Dirk clarified, flipping Dave off casually, "And we had a little spending money. Hence the new apartment." 

"How big is this place?" Bro asked, setting his bag down by the door as he raised an eyebrow behind his shades. 

"Six bedroom, three bath. Penthouse with full roof access. Paid off for a full year in advance," Dave listed off. 

"How much did you guys fucking make?" Bro asked, looking into the kitchen and finding a fridge that was actually in working order. It even had one of the spouts to pour water and ice out of the door, and was all chrome, matching the dish washer, stove and microwave. 

"Enough," Dirk smirked, "But we also had six days to set this shit up, so at least we didn't need to spend anything on hiring movers and shit." 

Bro began to wander down one of the hallways, "None of our old shit is in here." 

"That's because it was shit," Dave reminded. 

"Lil Cal?" 

"In your room," Dirk shuddered, "Seriously man he has dead eyes." 

"He helped raise you fucks, show a little respect." 

"Correction, you raised us, the puppet just happened to be present," said Dave. 

"Yeah," Bro said, letting out a whoosh of air as he looked around, "Apparently I raised you right."

"Amen to that," Dirk agreed, "Now beer's in the fridge and I've got Marvel Vs Capcom already in the PS3, get your shit together."

Bro just shook his head with a sigh, and for the first time in years gave an actual smile. 

Both of his brothers were assholes.

"Shouldn't I be the one providing all this shit for you guys?" Bro asked, opening up the fridge and pulling out three actually cold beers. 

"Theoretically. However due to the circumstances we grew up with, without your help we wouldn't gave gotten this far," Dirk said, turning the television on and walking over to flop down in the recliner, "So congrats, you've done well." 

Dirk managed to catch the beer that was thrown at him, and Dave repeated the action as Bro sat down, picking up a controller. "Dibs on the Hulk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((See? Dave had an idea what to do with all that dough. Comments? Questions? Concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a comment in the section below!))


	16. Derezzed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Fluff! I'm going to be hopping times a little bit, because at the pace I'm going this fic would be fifty chapters long by the time it gets to the story arch, so it's gonna be jumping through the summer months at a pretty good pace ^^ so hey, enjoy!))

Ah, summertime. Possibly Jane's favorite time of the year. Not because of the nice weather, which Texas didn't really have seeing as it was practical hellfire right out the front door, and not because of the chance to wear fun dresses with the rest of the crowd because it was always hot, meaning it was always a time for cute outfits and flowy skirts. 

It was because her little brother didn't have any classes, meaning that he could stay with her for a few months and also because Roxy tended to take most of her time off in the summer, meaning she could see her more. Even the idea that she wouldn't constantly be stuck at Alternia Records was pretty refreshing, but for it to be reality was positively wonderful. 

And, ever since Jake quit his job at the radio station to be Daft Punk's full time manager, there was so much more time to spend with friends. And friends being not only Roxy and Jake, but Dirk and Dave as well. 

Over the six months that had passed since Dave and Dirk's first performance at Deuces, and since then they'd become close with nearly everyone. Dave had driven up to San Antonio almost every weekend after Homework debuted, and before too long he was close with Roxy and Jade as well as John. According to John, he was also hanging out with Sollux and Karkat as well. 

Dirk would come over even if Jake wasn't around, finally being comfortable enough just to spend time around Jane and Roxy individually or together. 

It was odd, in a good way. It felt like both boys should have been there from the very start, but now that they were here nobody could remember what it was like before them. 

And on that note, Jane decided it was a good time to get everyone she could to spend some time together, instead of the separate age groups. Rose and Jade weren't able to make it, Jade going back home to visit her grandfather and Rose spending time in New York. But otherwise, all of the boys had agreed to spend a relaxing weekend together with Jane and Roxy at their apartment, free food included. 

Well. 

'Relax' was kind of a broad term. 

"Are you fucking kidding? I get to choose, Egbert, you got to pick the last movie and for some god forsaken reason Jake and Dave agreed with you. I swear to fuck if I have to watch some other old ass action flick-" 

"Dirk! You can't speak to my cousin that way, you jerkwad! I could hear a threat coming up from a mile away, and I won't stand for such brash statements."

"Jake, shut up, this obviously concerns the Striders and John McBadMovieExpert," Dave brushed off, shaking his head a little, "And I agree with Dirk, I'm not g-"

"Daaaaave!" John hit Dave over the head with a couch pillow, knocking his shades askew, "Don't be a dick! I obviously have great knowledge and opinions in movies and I'm choosing Contact."

"No," Dirk argued, "We're not watching fucking Contact."

"And what would you suggest, mate?" Jake challenged, raising an eyebrow, "Some ironic piece of bollocks that- Oh for frigs flipping sake, give me my glasses back!"

"Don't bash on the irony," Dirk responded with a shrug, Jake's square shades already hidden from view with Jake squinting angrily in Dirk's general direction after having his spectacles snatched off of his face. 

From the entrance to the hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathrooms, Jane gave a small, hopeless sigh as she watched all four boys argue. 

This was supposed to be fun! Relaxing and fun, a night or two full of movies and snacks, with happiness and jokes and now everyone was fighting with their teeth barred. Even Dave and John were arguing, but Jane saw that it was kinder than what was being tossed between the rest of them. It was the middle of June, and ever since he'd began his summer vacation down in Houston at the start of May, John had been inseparable from the youngest Strider. It was wonderful that they were friends in everyone's opinion, and they even began hanging out with Rose and Jade when they could find time to drive back up to San Antonio. 

They seemed to be extremely close, but made sure the whole 'total bro' element was included.

That didn't stop Jake, Roxy, Dirk and Jane from betting on a time frame of when they'd finally start dating, of course.

The front door opened and shut, and none of the boys stopped arguing even for a moment as Roxy made her way around the back of the couch to the hallway where Jane was tucked away, offering up a big plastic cup that Jane knew was filled with cyan-blue slushie.

Ocean Water, her favorite. Taking a sip, she gave a little sigh as Roxy stood next to her before leaning on her shoulder a little bit as the blonde began to sip at her pink lemonade slushie. The two of them looked into the living room, watching the scene of squabbling boys unravel with disappointment and slight interest, "You're really gonna let them act this way?" 

"They are the guests," Jane sighed, "And my father always taught me that the guest are always right." Another sip was taken from her cup as her nose crinkled when another couch pillow went flying in Dirk's direction.

"But you and I are the ones who live here, making us the hosts and the owners of this place," Roxy reminded, looping an arm around Jane's shoulders and leaning on her, "meaning we get to make the rules."

"That's true in a way, but we should try to be as courteous as possible seeing as they are guests in our home," Jane reiterated. 

Roxy just groaned, hanging off of Jane dramatically for a moment before standing up straight, "What's happening anyways? I left for like, ten minutes to get us drinks."

"They just finished up Ghost Busters and Dirk started complaining about the mechanics behind the whole, ghost-y machine thing," The red-rimmed glassed girl waved a hand dismissively, "And now they're trying to decide on the next movie for Movie Night. It's not really going as well as I'd hoped." 

Roxy raised both white eyebrows in tandem as she took a long drink, until it was making a slurping, crackling sound with a minuscule amount of liquid in the bottom. Glancing over, she could see Jane biting on her thumb nail distractedly, watching as a foot hit out and knocked a glass of soda over and the coffee table. "Oh, goodness," Jane muttered, sounding almost put out as she let her hands drop to her sides. 

A tongue clicked, and leaning to stand by herself, Roxy released her straw from her mouth. "Hold this for me, sweetie," She requested, passing off her drink and walking back into the living room as Jane watched. 

Roxy stepped easily over to where the remote was sitting between the four boys, grabbing it and smirking at the fact that they didn't seem to notice what she was doing. 

A few buttons, locking the power to 'on' even if clicked 'off' manually, and setting the volume to a solid 74, Roxy turned on a show of her choice, taking the batteries out of the remote and setting it back down. 

She managed to get back to the hallway calmly before a voice boomed in the speakers, causing all of the boys to jump as Jane's eyes went as wide as dinner plates.

"This episode, of Toddlers and Tiaras-"

"FUCK NO."

"Okay this doesn't even count as ironic, where the fuck is the remote?" 

"Are my ears bleeding?" 

"Good gravy, shut it off!"

All four of the boys began scrambling around in search of the remote, Jake getting his glasses back and the pillows at least being thrown on the couch in an attempt to sort out the area. Someone's hand landed in the soda, causing another annoyed exclamation as all complained almost as loudly as the four year old on screen.

They ended up finding the remote, which they didn't know was void of batteries as they tried every button to turn it off. 

They tried pressing the power button on the flat screen itself and the button to lower the volume to no avail, eventually all covering up their ears with their hands as Jane and Roxy laughed in the hallways, lips stained pink and cyan. 

After about two more minutes, Jane leaned down to Roxy's ear, having to nearly yell over the sound of a mother trying to justify spray tanning her seven year old, "I think it's over." 

Roxy turned her head, calling back, "Good." Pressing a kiss to Jane's cheek and walking back out to the living room, Roxy didn't even seemed fazed as she stood in front of the blaring speakers. She grabbed the remote from the floor where it had been discarded, putting the batteries back in the device and feeling four pairs of eyes watching her like a hawk as she eventually went through the reverse process as before, turning down the volume before changing the show from pageantry to the selection page on Netflix. Turning around, she put her hands on her hips and looked between all four boys, everyone staying silent for a good minute. 

Eventually, Roxy was the one who spoke. "We're watching Cabin in the Woods." All four of them opened their mouths to speak, maybe to agree or maybe to complain, but she lifted the remote and wiggled it a little, giving a soft, "Ah ah ah! Remember, I own you."

 

-

 

Dirk was wrapped up in a throw blanket, tucked neatly against Jake's side as the both of them snored quietly. Usually they would have at least been poked fun at, but Jane and Roxy were in a similar arrangement, the blonde sprawled over Jane's lap with their hands linked together. 

On the far end of the couch, Dave observed this all behind shaded eyes, the middle of Pacific Rim flashing on screen as John tried to stay awake. 

"Wh't time is 't?" John asked, yawning as he stretched his legs, his toes going en point.

Dave glanced down at his phone, very nearly yawning himself but managing to keep a cool expression, as per usual. "2:39."

"AM?" 

"Nah man, shit's afternoon. Look at that sun," Dave said, waving a hand at the window. The darkness behind the glass was darkening the living room as well, which was now littered with sweets and drinks galore. None of the kids had left the stretch-around sofa for longer than five minutes over the past eight hours, since Roxy had taken control and forced them onto a good movie binge. 

And just as it had been over the past few months, John was right at his side, only this time in person rather than over Pesterchum. 

It was nice, having a best friend. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud. Totally not cool. 

John blew a tired raspberry at Dave, and much to the blondes surprise he felt a head hit his shoulder softly not a moment later. 

"You alright there buddy?" He asked in a fake, parental coo, "Tucked out from all those actually good movies?" 

"Shut up," John groaned, his voice sounding a little stiff, "'M tired."

"Yeah, I see that. And feel that, holy shit your face is bony." Dave wasn't kidding; something was digging into his shoulder sharply and god damn was that a cheek bone? "Hold the hell up man."

Dave sat up, his arm wrapping around John's shoulder to let him rest a little more comfortably before reclining back on the pillows, his own head coming to rest against John's. 

"Thanks," John sighed, actually sounding a little more awake and a lot less pained. 

"Well hey, what else can I be if not a glorified pillow?" 

"You wanna know something kinda funny?" John asked, yawning again as he relaxed against Dave. Without even indicating that he would, Dave reached up and took John's glasses off of his face, folding them up and putting them on the table being his spot on the sofa. 

"Why not, hit me with it." 

"I'm able to read you better when you're pretending to be a robot," John giggled. 

"Yeah, I hear that a lot," Dave shrugged, but he felt John shake his head. 

"No, no. Better. Like I can tell what you're thinking anyways, but it's easier when I can't see your face." 

"Really? And how does that work?" 

"Your face makes people think you don't care," John said, beginning to fall back asleep, "But you do."

"Whoa man, these rumors are like margarine, easy to spread and impossible to get the fuck out of anything. Don't go around telling people I care about what they think, they'll get the wrong impression," Dave squeezed John a little in retaliation. 

"Well not everyone!" John argued, poking Dave's side where his hand was already resting, "Just a few people. Like Dirk, and Jane and Roxy and Rose and Jade and Kankri, and Cronus, and-"

"I thought this was supposed to be a few." 

"And me," John finished. "You care what I think too." 

Dave was silent, watching a Jaeger tear through buildings like they were made of paper on screen as the Kaiju it was fighting screeched. "Right?" John asked, now sounding sleepy and a little unsure. 

Dave remained silent, at least for a second before turning his head, resting his lips against John's hair and speaking. "Right." 

Against his chest, he felt John's cheek knot up in what he hoped was a smile before the tired idiot was speaking again, "Since you care, that makes you a human," he laughed, "Your robot act has been debunked." 

"Aw shit, you caught me," He he patted John's shoulder and continued to speak with his mouth pressed against John's head in a 'totally platonic and bro based and also super cool and not lame at all' act of affection, "And now to give you advice from a book that I'm pretty sure Bro wrote for me when I was little; Go the fuck to sleep." 

-

"Okay come on, what the fuck is so funny?" Dave was looking between Roxy, Jane, Dirk and Jake, who were all eating breakfast at the Lalonde/Crocker dining table with shit eating grins on their faces. John was still asleep on the couch, and Dave was just sipping at a glass of water, leaning against the kitchen counter as he looked between them. 

"Nothing," All four assured in unison, all heads dropping to look at their plates and all of them going to take a bite at the same time. This, for some reason, caused Roxy to crack up so badly that before long they were all laughing like crazy, a snort coming from one of them while Dave almost gave a frustrated noise, but instead stayed perfectly blank. 

"Nothing my sweet ass." 

"Shut up Dave, you don't even have an ass," Dirk retaliated, still smirking just a little as he ate a bite of eggs. 

"Says the one with a backside of cardboard," Dave shrugged. 

Jake looked up from his food and glanced down for a moment at the seat Dirk was sitting on, "Wait really?" 

"Eyes up front, English," Dirk responded, snapping his fingers once as he pointed back upwards, "You can't look at my only flaw this early in the day." 

"We're not here to discuss fine asses, which sorry to break it to you bro, we don't even fall in the category of. Why are you all laughing at me?" 

Jane managed to swallow the food she had in her mouth before resting her chin on her laced together fingers, "You care what we think?" 

"What?" Dave asked blankly, and Jake began to smirk as he took a bite of sausage.

"But, most importantly," Roxy butted in, batting her eyelashes dramatically and splayed a hand over her heart, "You care about what Jooooooohn thinks." 

The way his name was stretched to impossible lengths forced Dave to inhale sharply and suddenly, Dave froze for a moment as all four adults began laughing again. Within five seconds John was squealing from the living room as he had water poured on his face, a rude awakening to what he'd thought was a good way to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a message in the comments below and I'll get right to you! Thanks for reading dears :3))


	17. Prime Time of Your Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Two chapters in one night, wowee. That's not what I was planning on doing, but hey, it's still cool. Make sure that you read chapter 16 as well, since these are posted at the same time and I don't want you having to skip anything. I really really HEAVILY RECOMMEND listening to Prime Time of Your Life by Daft Punk while reading this. You don't have to, but it'll make a hella lot more sense if you do ^^ Thanks dolls, hope you enjoy!))

"Holy shit."

Dave Strider, robot extraordinaire and well known musician, could be heard practically whirring from a mile away with how steadily and deeply he was sucking in air, his screen flashing an 'x' rapidly.

"I don't know what you were expecting, and Dirk acted the same way. You Striders really do think alike," Jake shrugged, his tablet in hand as he flipped through tabs with ease. Ever since he'd taken over as being a full time manager, dealing with all messages and actual offers that used to go through Kankri, Jake had shown that Dirk had made a good choice in choosing him all those months ago. Currently, they were standing in an events center in California.

An events center that was booked with thirteen thousand seats, according to the news that Jake had just delivered.

"Not that many people?" Dave tried, and Jake rolled his eyes.

"Homework was an absolute hit, and this is the first time you two have even allowed yourselves to be talked to since it came out," Jake said, brandishing a stylus in Dave's general direction and then at the door, which Dirk was roaming about somewhere on the other side of, "let alone perform. I can't believe you two managed to book this kind of crowd, yes, but it's not surprising."

"Wow, thanks," Dave said sarcastically, the mechanical voice he was sporting clicking a little as he took in another deep breath, "Glad to know we can challenge your beliefs with our success."

"You have ten minutes until you're due on stage," Jake said, reaching out and patting the robots shoulder once and managing to catch his gaze even through the tinted screen, "You'll do fine, chum. Roxy, Jane, John and I will be watching, you and Dirk will be just as good as usual."

Dave had nearly forgotten; they'd come with. All of them. John's schooling was starting in a week, and with that Dave had news that he wasn't quite ready to tell anyone at that moment. but still, John had come all the way to California with them, and was going to be out there watching them with that dumb smile and his dorky habit of biting his nails when he was nervous. Great.

And Jake did have a point; Homework released months ago, getting popular all over Europe and across the US to the point that Jake was practically being bombarded with magazine offers, interviews handed to them without any fight, and people vying to know about them. Which was pretty easy to handle, seeing as it was their goal not to have anything known about them at all. So a sudden public appearance that Cronus had assured would keep them 'in good graces' until they could release a new album?

They'd gotten sold out in less than a week.

Dave only nodded in response to Jake, and his manager gave him a thumbs up and an honest smile before disappearing out of the door, probably going to look for Dirk to get him ready for performing.

There was a knock at the door, and Dave looked up, watching as a head of dark hair popped in, red popping as an accent around eyes and across the bridge of a young woman's nose.

"Sup?" He greeted, and Jane stepped in fully, closing the door behind her almost cautiously.

"John isn't in here right?" She asked quietly, and Dave gained a question mark as his head tipped slightly to the left.

"No, why?"

"Because we need to have a talk."

The tone that she used made the question mark get replaced with a startled exclamation point, because in eight months of knowing her Dave had never heard her sound so threatening.

Jane Crocker. Threatening.

Who'da thunk?

"About?"

"About the fact that in three months my brother has spent more time with you than any other human being in probably his entire life," She said, giving him the best look of aloofness that she could muster as she put her hands on her hips, "And as his only older sibling, it's my job to warn you that if you upset him, I'll have to take an appropriate course of action."

"Whoa, you're making it sound like the normal, 'you're dating my kid/sister/friend and if you hurt them I hurt you' thing that you get from-" He paused, "You think I'm dating your brother?"

"I don't think," She said, and a small smile accidentally broke through before she corrected it, "So yes, I know that both of you are pining after the same thing."

"We are not-"

"Dave. Focus," She reminded, "You're a nice kid. And John loves being around you and from all that I've seen you love being around him. Break that love, and I'll have to act in a way that I'm no accustom."

He stood with a blank screen and a ridged stance for a good thirty seconds before pulling in a breath deep enough to cause a whirring once more,"And what if he's the one that breaks it?"

The smile his question elicited was bright as she chuckled, "Then I'll act against him instead of you. Now do well, and give Dirk my best."

"You've got it," He assured, and she gave him a quick hug before disappearing back out the door.

Swallowing the best he could in the get up he was wearing, Dave went and sat down, hearing Nepeta and Equius chat idly between themselves right outside his dressing room door. Shit. He thought at least he was being subtle with the fact that he may be, totally platonically, liking the dork.

Alright fuck it. Totally not platonically. Totally not in a bro way, not at all. After wussing out all those months ago, he'd been trying to convince himself that everything was at least kind of straight. That made shit easier, right? Joke about it being gay, but don't actually make it gay? Even after he dumped water on him that one time, John was back cuddling with him that night. And the next night. And the next night. Basically every night they'd spent together while John was in Houston.

Which was basically every night period.

He let out a groan, which sounded like a single, off key note being sung.

Eight minutes until he was due on stage. He just needed to breathe, and get focused.

Blue eyed babes could wait for a sec, damn it.

-

With Di-Stri standing next to him, a crowd of thirteen thousand cheering him on, and John actually visible from where he was standing, Dave felt like he could relax a little bit. All of their music was familiar, off of Homework and a few songs that they assumed would be going on their next album. One song, however, didn't seem to fit with what they'd been playing so far that night, so naturally they'd saved it for last. It had only been practiced a few times, leaving plenty of room for error which Dave wasn't about to let happen. He was already sweating under his helmet and all the leather he was wearing, and he was fairly sure that Dirk felt the same due to the lights that were on them.

It was sharp, quick musical noises that echoed through the place, causing cheers as the sound traveled.

 

_"The prime time of your life,_

_the prime time of your life,_

_Now._

_Live it._

_The prime time of your life,"_

 

The crowd began to move in sync with it, cheers thrown in as they repeated the same statements. Usually, the song tapered off into a slow ending, something that would have been a good wind down to the night and clipped their playlist to a nice end.

But the moment Dave looked up and noticed that John wasn't where he was before as they were nearing the end of the song, he flashed a question mark. His hands moving on memory to the best of his abilities but ending up causing him to look down at the boards and up in the crowd repeatedly. He thought maybe he just went to the bathroom, but when he saw what was really happening, and his hand slipped on the last word,

 

_"The prime time of your liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"_

 

It became stretched, the same repetitive beat going over and over in a loop as his left hand curled into a small fist, his face flashing an 'x' and his fingers hitting a few nobs, slowly speeding the stretched mess up. Dirk lifted his hands away from the key board and people responded positively to the sound of increased tempo, the beat speeding up to something they would never usually add in their songs.

Unplugging his mic, Dirk stepped over to where Dave was still frozen, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Turntech?" He questioned, but the x only flashed faster as Dave's fist tightened, the music going faster into some blurred, thunking mess.

His eyes were glued to the sight of two people in of to the far left of the dance floor. More specifically, John in the far left of the dance floor.

With some blonde chick glued to his face, his hands hovering an inch above her waist.

Which was pressed completely up against him.

Dirk stopped too, hinting Dave in on the fact that he saw it too before he nudged his brother. "Shut off the music," Di-Stri ordered softly, and Dave flicked a hand out with practice precision and hit a single nob, hearing the music speed and sound reverse into something near ethereal for five seconds before it shut off entirely.

The crowd exploded in applause, and Dirk raised a hand good heartedly as a sign off while Dave ripped the cords out of the back of his helmet, making his way off stage even as encore was called.

"Turntech!" Di-Stri followed him closely as close as possible off stage, watching as Dave's face flashed a bright white.

His mind flipped back to when he'd first programmed it. Green was good, red was embarrassed or a no, pink was affection and white was-

The dressing room door slammed open as Dave pushed his way through, his helmet being roughly ripped off as blonde hair stuck to his face in different places. Dirk closed the door behind him, beginning to take off his own helmet, "Dave calm down."

"I'm calm," He bit back harshly, his teen nearly showing as he damn near slammed the helmet into a chair before setting it so as not to break it.

"Bullshit, you're angry."

"What gave it away?" Dave asked with a sarcastically upset voice, looking around for his shades and feeling his chest begin to hurt as he sucked in sharp breaths. "Where the fuck are my shades?"

"The white on your helmet fuckface. Also the fact that I'm pretty sure you just rammed the door handle through the fucking wall," Dirk pointed out, his own helmet meeting one of the make up tables as he pointed back at the door, "And I have no idea. Now would you relax your shit? There's probably a perfectly good explanation for this."

"Really? Is there?" For the first time in his life, Dave was actually losing his cool. And he couldn't even do it stylishly. Instead, he was a red faced, sweating, twenty year old mess with no shades and a heart that was beating in his throat as it felt like his chest was being cut open, "Maybe there is one. Maybe he's a big old fucking heterosexual like he says he is. Maybe he was flirting with her and they ended up there. Maybe I was getting my hopes up all this time between messaging him and spending time with him over this entire summer break and maybe, just maybe, he's like a majority of the population and attracted to the opposite sex. And you wanna know who the fuck cares? Not me. Nope. I'm fucking perfectly fine. I'm as fine as Rocco on Boondock Saints, as fine as the ass of a dancer. Perfectly, fucking, fine."

"It's alright not to be fine," Dirk managed to get out before Dave found his shades, snatching them up, "It's alright dude just fucking relax."

"You know it's not. Bro would beat the shit out of me if he saw me right now." The feeling earlier didn't even compare to this; earlier he was just nervous, maybe a little closer to panicking than he'd thought, but now it felt like something had reached into his chest and gripped his heart and lungs, beginning to squeeze tighter and tighter until Dave was borderline hyperventilating, "This isn't- This isn't cool and this room isn't cool either, I need air."

"Come on," Dirk said, walking over and managing to get Dave's leather jacket off of him before putting on his own shades, "You're starting to have a panick attack, I think."

"Fuck you, I am not," Dave argued, trying to pull in more air but finding that he had no more space in his lungs to store it. Luckily it felt like his head had plenty of space, and the air began to fill that area instead, the room becoming a bit easier to spin as Dave got a little dizzy. This was the only reason that he didn't shove Dirk off his arm as he was led away from his chair and over to the door, opening it.

"Wow, that last song was g- Are you okay?" Nepeta asked, her post still having her stationed at it as Equius actually managed to look a bit interested at Dave's current state. The two of them were standing on either side of the dressing room door, making sure that they were still protected and doing what they'd been paid for.

"We need to get outside," Dirk said, and without another word Equius was walking through the crowd with purpose, cutting like a skate on ice through the throngs of people as Dave leaned on Dirk.

Dave was shivering a little, and from Dirk's peripheral vision he saw Roxy catch sight of them and immediately turn concerned. "I'm fucking freezing, can I have my jacket back?" Dave asked, his voice having less of a stab to it than before.

"Nope," Dirk shrugged, continuing to haul his brother towards the exit. Equius held the door for them as Dave managed to suck in a deep breath of warm Californian air.

Before promptly throwing up on the sidewalk.

"That's what you get for fucking hyperventilating," His brother said, patting his back a little as Dave spit on the ground, his mouth tasting horrible, "Told you you need to relax, now you got yourself worked up over something small."

"Dave!" Roxy came out the door with wide eyes and the first concerned expression either Strider had seen on her, "What happened?"

"Panick attack," Dirk said, "He's fine."

"Oh, honey," She sighed out, walking over to the younger blonde who was hunched over with his hands resting on his knees, "Do you need anything?" Roxy asked, setting a black nailed hand on Dave's back in a comforting way.

"I-" Standing up, he felt his hands shaking as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, "I overreacted," He assured, glad for the darkness and his shades to hide the way his eyes flickered, "I got myself going and couldn't stop, I'm fine. Probably just nerves from before the show mixing with-"

Roxy stuck out her bottom lip sympathetically before patting his shoulder at his cut off statement, "It's okay, let's get you some water. We'll find Jane and John an-"

"No." Roxy stopped at how quickly he said the word, but he patted her hand once before pushing it to slide off of his shoulder, "I'm just going back to the hotel. Tell John I'm sick, he's crashing with someone else."

"But-"

"The room's gonna be locked, he's finding somewhere else" He reiterated, "And Dirk, don't leave my helmet here."

"Fine," Dirk said, and the fact that it didn't even have an insult attached clued Roxy in on the fact that something must have happened.

By the time they got Dave loaded up into a cab, Roxy turned to look at Dirk and Nep, "What the fuck was that all about?"

"No idea," Nepeta admitted, and Dirk just shook his head.

"Dirk?" Roxy pushed, her hand reaching out to poke at his shoulder, "I could tell something went wrong when the song switched, I've heard you two play it before."

"Roxy?" Jane stepped out of the front of the building, a confused John in her midst as they caught sight of a small pod of familiar company, "There you are! Jake directed me out here, I was looking all over for you. He said you walked out here after Dave and Dirk."

John looked around for a second before frowning, "Yeah, where's Dave?"

It happened so quickly that no one, even John, understood what happened for at least three seconds. The fist in the front of his shirt was tight, and his back was against a wall, his feet about two inches off the ground when his toes were straining to meet the concrete. Nepeta immediately got defensive when she saw a blur shoot past her, but paused when she saw what was happening.

"I will book you a separate hotel room," Dirk said calmly, John looking surprised and terrified as his feet tried to hit the ground and failed miserably, "but until we get back to Houston, you are riding in whatever car I say, you will walk where I tell you, and you will speak to whoever I say you can."

"Dirk, what the fuck are you doing?" Roxy asked, pulling at Dirk's shoulder and finding that he didn't move an inch.

"We'll talk later," He promised to the girl over his shoulder before turning back to John, "And first orders? No talking to Dave. Don't message him, don't go to his room, I will get your shit for you and bring it over. Don't even look at him if you have the chance unless he actively seeks you out. Understood?" Dirk asked, his fist pushing a little closer and fully pining John to the wall.

John nodded, and was set back on his feet a touch roughly.

"Dirk-" Jane started to argue, but the tension that was tight across his shoulders and the odd, small pinch in his expression caused Roxy to raise a hand, silencing her girlfriend effectively.

Dirk turned back to the door, glancing at John, "I have shit to grab, I'm finding Jake and he'll bring you to your new room."

John was wearing a truly hurt expression, one hand going to rub at his upper arm awkwardly, "But I'm sharing a room with Dave, wha-"

"You have your own room now," Dirk said with an air of finality, his eyes narrowing a little. "By the way, you've got blue lipstick on your mouth. May wanna check that out."

The eyes of all three girls flew to John as his eyes went wide, a hand moving up to scrub at his lips a little and sure enough, coming back with blue tinting while the door shut loudly.

"John," Roxy began before she stopped, looking back where Dirk just went back and glancing over to the street where Dave's car had just driven away, "Who's lipstick is that?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments, questions, concerns? Want me to write the next chapter right away to fix this? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a comment below <33 ([{imsorry}])))


	18. Rollin' & Scratchin'

"Let me get this straight; You don't know?" Jane asked in a disbelieving tone, "First off I need to swat you upside the head, but I also need to go do the same to Dirk."

"Already on it," Roxy assured her girlfriend, patting her back once lightly before making her way back into the club, leaving Nepeta and Jane to continue looking at John. 

"I don't!" He answered again, honestly, and Jane pinched the bridge of her nose as she dropped her face to turn towards the sidewalk, "I was dancing with her and suddenly she was kissing me, she never even told me her name! Okay that's a lie, it was something that started with an m, but she barely got it out before she was being all. . . mouthy and stuff."

"Oh, John," Nepeta sighed, "You and Dave were a perrrrfect couple, why would yo-"

"Whoa whoa whoa," He raised a hand, "couple?" John asked, looking confused, "We're not a couple." 

"You're not?" Nepeta actually looked surprised, fiddling with a piece of yarn that was hanging off of her knit glove distractedly, "But you spend all your time together! And you're always right by each others sides and are pretty much always maintaining physical contact. And also talk about each other when you're not with the other, and you guys flirt, and-" 

"Okay!" John cut her off, blushing brightly, "I get it. But I'm not dating him! We're just friends, dude."

"Really?" Nepeta asked innocently, ". . . . you're sure you're not dating?" 

John rolled his eyes. "Positive," He assured. 

Jane opened her mouth to respond to that, but the door of the club opened again, this time revealing Roxy pulling Dirk out by one ear and Jake pulling him by the other. The moment all three of them were in front of John, Roxy cleared her throat. "We all need to have a little talk, after I've gotten the story from Dirkie here." 

"What's even going on?" John whined out a little, and Jake tugged Dirk's ear up, causing the blonde to glare at his boyfriend behind his shades. 

"Firstly, before we talk, this cockeyed dickens owes you an apology, from what Roxy said," Jake said, and when Dirk remained silent he pulled his ear higher. 

"Jesus fucking c- Alright, fine. John, I-" Dirk sighed at how ridiculous he must have looked, before standing up tall despite the pain in his ears and feeling Jake being the only one tall enough to continue holding on, Roxy's hand falling away, "I apologize. I reacted nearly as badly as Dave did, just with threats instead of hyperventilating and throwing up. I shouldn't have been such a dick. Happy, Jake?" He turned his head to look at his companion, who was still wearing an unamused expression.

"How did Dave react badly? Badly to what?" John sounded lost, "Can someone explain?" 

"I will," Roxy said, standing in front of her friend with crossed arms and a sour expression, "You led that boy on for months, and you decide the first time to kiss someone in your time away from college was at one of his concerts, while he was performing? What is wrong with you?" She hit his arm lightly, more of a scold than something that would actually cause pain, and John let out an annoyed groan. 

"I led Dave on?" John sighed, shaking his head and waving a hand, "I didn't lead him on, Dave knows that we're friends, he-" 

"That's a fucking lie," Dirk accused in the same tone as before when he had John pinned against the wall, and Jake tugged on his ear before the blonde batted his hand away. 

"You've said and done enough for the night," Jake scolded, and Dirk just turned back to John, ignoring the Brit. 

"Dude. I know my brother. And I'm assuming that Jane knows you. And fucking everyone knows that you two have been tripping over each other since you first met. Dave liked you, saw you kissing some blonde chick out on the floor, fucked up our set, had a panic attack and ditched." 

"He what?" The tall, dark haired boy looked a little stunned as he blinked, "Is he okay?" 

"For Dave? No. For a Strider? Fuck no. For anyone else? Still probably no," Dirk crossed his arms over his chest, "Look, I'm kinda sorry I pinned you, that was out of line I guess. But in our entire lives, I've never seen him give more than a frown at anything he didn't like. Watching him lose his shit over you was enough to piss me off." 

"Still didn't mean it was right," Jake reminded offhandedly, and Dirk turned to glare at him while Jake raised his eyebrows in a silent challenge. 

"I-" John fell quiet, looking around at the other five people around him, "I-"

"Don't feel too bad about it John. If you don't feel the same about him, you've gotta tell him," Nepeta comforted, patting John's back, "You two can get over it, you are friends after all." 

"But-" He squeezed his eyes shut. 

This couldn't be happening. 

How did they all know? He'd been secretive about it, or at least he thought he had. And if they were right about him. . . 

What if they were right about Dave liking him back? 

"I do!" He argued, sliding his glasses up to scrub at his eyes with his fingertips as his hands curled into fists, "I do feel the same, I do, but that doesn't mean that he feels the way that you guys are guessing he does. I didn't mean to kiss that girl, I didn't even choose to kiss her! And I didn't mean for Dave to see it, I never thought that it would matter to him." 

"Explain then," Dirk offered up, and John's hands dropped away from his face to look between everyone nervously.

"We were just dancing, she seemed nice and we were just hanging out! And suddenly she's kissing me, and- And I guess I didn't push her away. . . at least not until I saw Roxy disappear out of the corner of my eye and Jane get all freaked out from her leaving suddenly." 

"If you like Dave why didn't you push her away?" Jane asked, and John scoffed, hanging his head.

"You're joking, right? He was up on stage. Playing for thousands of people. After his album just debuted. You really think I have a chance with someone like that?" Kicking his foot lightly, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

Silence went around them, except for the sounds of other people chattering as they were waiting to get into the club that they'd just exited.

It was another ten seconds before Jake scratched at the back of his head, clearing his throat. "I did," He pointed out, and both him and Dirk blushed slightly, seeing as they'd been arguing for the past few minutes, "And you two have liked each other before all that malarkey."

"Our career is malarkey to you?" Dirk asked, turning to look at him.

"You attacked my cousin. One more word and you're sleeping alone," Jake replied with a glare. 

"Anyways," Roxy said loudly, bringing the attention back to the situation at hand, "You should go talk to him. Now." 

"Now?" John repeated. 

"After you wipe off your mouth a little," Nepeta recommended, and John began to scrub at his mouth with the back of his hand and an embarrassed expression. 

"But-" 

Dirk let out a long sigh before reaching out, putting a hand on John's shoulder and looking him dead in the eye through his shades. "You agreed to do what I said earlier. Now go talk to my brother. Or I'll beat the shit out of you or something." 

"Dirk!" Jake snapped, and John actually gave a small smile as he saw Dirk's cheek move in what he thought to be a wink behind his pointed shades .

 

-

 

The door to the room opened, and Dave sat up in the bed he was lounging on, hair still wet from the shower he'd taken in a half-hearted attempt to relax. 

The moment he'd gotten into the cab, Dave felt his eyes heat up in a way they hadn't before outside of pain from strifes and bad dreams from when he was a kid. Touching his cheeks under his shades, the fingers that went over his eyes were rough, coming away wet.

This was stupid. 

He was stupid. 

Everything was fucking stupid. 

Getting back to the room, the shower was turned up high enough to turn his skin a bright pink, scrubbing the loofah a bit too hard and feeling a bit sore all over his arms as chest as he dried off. 

He still felt sick to his stomach as he watched television. 

The cure? 

Greasy food.

"Dirk? Thank fucking god. I need french fries. Think you can g-"

The words tapered into silence as instead of his brother stepping into his room, a face that was all too recognizable made an appearance, the voice awkward and forced. "Hey, Dave." 

"I'm sick, you may not wanna be in here," Dave responded in an almost detached tone, turning his eyes back to the television that was playing Robot Chicken and leaving John to stand there on shuffling feet. 

"Something tells me that you're not really sick," He said, taking a step further into the room with his hands pressed deep into his pockets. 

"Something being?" 

"Roxy." 

"What, did she tell you that after Dirk squealed on me?" 

"No, she told me that after Dirk nearly beat me up," John clarified, and this actually caused Dave to look over at him. 

"Dirk what?" 

"Don't worry, both Roxy and Jake already beat him back down to size," John chuckled awkwardly, his thumb nail hooking behind his front tooth nervously. 

"He didn't hurt you did he?" Dave asked cautiously, now continuing to look at John as he sat up a bit more. 

"No," John assured, "But he wanted to seeing as I hurt you. Which I can almost understand." 

"You didn't hurt me," Dave responded automatically, but John rolled his eyes and walked in fully, sitting on the bed next to his friend. 

"Look, five different people all kinda bombarded me at once, and from what I could gather, yeah. Yeah I did. And I'm sorry." 

"Don't be," Dave tried to brush off, seeing as John sounded earnest enough before switching the channel, "It was just nerves from the show. Nothing else. I got sick, took a hot shower and was gonna go to bed. Until you barged in like a savage, that is." 

"Oh," John said softly, biting his bottom lip. On the television, some weird cartoon was playing, probably another ironic show that Dave watched for the hell of it. The two of them were silent, both of them opening their mouths to speak at the same time but John getting it out first. 

"She kissed me."

Dave tensed, his eyes now almost glued to the screen. "What?" 

"I didn't kiss her, she- She kissed me."

"You didn't look that broken up over it," Dave shrugged, still not looking at him. 

"No. It was nice and all, but-"

"But? You've really got a 'but' to kissing a hot chick?"

"But I was mistaken," John continued, now looking at his lap as he picked at his nails. "I thought the person that I would rather be with didn't like me back. So, I was fine with being kissed."

"Alright let's face the fucking music, we're not doing one of these slow, shitty rom-com moments where we're both gonna have some long ass conversation talking about each other but never use names and then there's this big reveal and the people at home go 'awwwwww'." He paused, "You're talking about me." 

John was about to argue, just like he usually did when he was addressed with his feelings for the blonde, before swallowing. "Yes." 

"So I'm guessing we're gonna do the whole 'lets talk about it' thing?" 

"Only if you want to." 

"I don't," Dave admitted, "but we're gonna." 

"Alright," John said softly, "Does that mean you'll actually look at me?" 

"No," Dave deadpanned, "It doesn't. It means that even though you liked me, instead of telling me, you decided to mack on some random chick while I was in the middle of spilling out some sick beats."

"I didn't think-" 

The blonde raised a hand, "Save it. Point being, I trusted you man. Which-" He stopped, his mouth closing quickly enough that his teeth clicked together. 

The thing about that was that he didn't do it often. Being raised by people who could never be counted on would do that to a guy, but Bro had always said that they shouldn't just let anyone in. And Dave had taken the 'just' out of that. Don't let anyone in. 

And the fact that John had managed to wheedle his way in before breaking something that Dave didn't even know he felt? 

Well, by golly, that may just be enough to send a dude spiraling head first into a hyperventilating mess. 

Fucking incredible. 

"Which?" John pushed gently, tipping his head as he looked over at his friend. 

"Which I don't do," Dave finished, turning off the television and turning to look at John. "Look, fucking confetti in the air over the fact that we've got a mutual feeling here, A+ buddy, you did good, glad I can leave my mark, but- But it's gonna take a while, alright?" 

"A while?" He parroted, his fingers curling against the sheets a little as his expression turned slightly hurt. 

"Yes," Dave said solidly, his expression blank, "A while. A while before I'm gonna go let you into my heart or my pants." John blushed at that with an amuse smile, but Dave continued, "Sorry babe, but I've gotta pull a Demi Lavato and give my heart a break."

"I get it," John assured, nodding a little. He nearly jumped out of his skin, however, when a hand was laid over his. 

"Good. This isn't some rejection that you need to go broadcasting to our nosy ass friends, because it's not at all. It's me saying you need to hold the fuck up for a while." 

"I can do that," John promised, turning his hands over to touch Dave's in return. 

"So," Dave began, tapping John's hand once before pulling his own away, "Got a thing for blondes, do ya?" 

It was refreshing, to see Dave smile again as John laughed, his nose crinkling. 

Not a rejection. Just a waiting period. 

If he could make it up to him, then it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Did the blue trick you? Muahaha. Not Vriska, she's not coming into play just yet :3 But, hope you guys enjoyed! Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a message in the comments! Thanks for reading lovelies~))


	19. Funk Ad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((And here's where everything really starts ^^ Hope you enjoy! Also, there has been some wonderful fanart that has been submitted to me by Xeyonic, Pyrallspite, Bluebert, and Infinite-Ovaries. Check them out, all of them are amazing and the art can be found here: > burnieplease.tumblr.com/tagged/buy_it_use_it_break_it_fix_it))

Kankri hated when she came to the office.

It wasn't fair, really; She was pretty, witty, sharp as a tack and talented. She also helped him with tormenting Cronus, and sometimes did it better than he did. 

A national hit, overall. America loved her, and she was beginning to even get famous in Europe. She was harsh, yeah, and she could rip a person to shreds if she felt the need, but still. 

In reality Kankri didn't hate her, specifically. 

He was just, oh god, the word was hard to even think. 

He was jealous of Meenah Peixes.

And why was that? Not because of her winning career, not because she was richer than most, not because of the killer smile and overwhelming confidence with a lovely face. 

Of all things to be jealous of, of all things, he was jealous of the way that Cronus Ampora acted around her. 

He bent her every whim, even more than a producer should, and it made Kankri's blood boil. 

It was so dumb, but even now, he was sitting at his own desk while they sat in there and talked, and he was trying to find a distraction from having to listen to their stupid banter as he began to go through a listing of their shareholders. 

What he was trying to avoid, evidently, was not much.

"I'm not makin' the damn fish puns," Cronus repeated, and Meenah waved a gold-laden hand dismissively, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, I don't glubbin' care, I'm leaving anywaves," the artist dismissed, her soft black braids bumping against the floor once as she stood, "But we're talkin' later." 

"And why would we do that?" Cronus challenged, and she raised a slick black eyebrow before he sighed heavily, "Why would I give a carp about talking to you later? You're going on tour soon, you're not coming back to Texas for a few months, meaning I won't sea you." 

"I heard you've been workin' with those little robots who just came out onto the sea-ne," She said, her mouth curling into a smiling smirk, "I want in with 'em." 

"Can't," The man shook his head, "They swim solo." Damn, the habit of using fish puns around Meenah was so automatic that he fell back into it easily, and hated himself for it. The only reason she did it was because she was a Pisces and her band's name was based around that. Meenah and the Pearls, a name that she hated and loved seeing as it was cheesy but also hilarious. 

Cronus almost hadn't signed on with her because she was so insistent on keeping it, but people loved it apparently seeing as she just went platinum in her fifth album in a row two days before the meeting they were in.

"Fix it then and school them," She shrugged, "I like their sound, and they're gettin' popular. I want a song with 'em." 

He knew it. She'd been trying to get information about Daft Punk for the past twenty minutes that she'd spent in his office, and finally the penny was dropping. And Cronus knew exactly why. 

She'd been a client for nearly eight years, and every single time one of his other clients began to do well, she felt the need to work with them. Even if it was just one song or an entire album, she had to work on it. Why? She wanted to be known at all corners of the globe, and at the rate she was going she'd succeed. But right now Homework had gone Platinum in four European countries, the one area that she needed an in. So, of course she'd wanna tag team with them. In return, they may even get to be more popular in America, which was only at a Gold record and holding. 

It made sense and was a smart move, but there was one problem with it all.

"They'll never agree to it, so sorry but you're stuck. They strive for anonymity; it doesn't matter how popular you are they'll still gonna turn you down, " Cronus ran a hand through his hair as Meenah smirked wider, a hand going to adjust one of the two braids hanging down to the middle of her back. 

"Whatebber. If I did one song with them, they'd become sensations overnight and I'd be set with wantin' to work with them and shit. You really wanna take that away from two good sets of clients?" 

"Why are you so set on getting an 'in; with them?" Cronus asked, his eyes narrowing a little as she grabbed her fuchsia clutch from the edge of his desk. 

"I like them," She repeated, knowing he already knew the answer as she gave a prize smile, "And what I like I get. I'll be frondly with them, if you want. I'll make sure not to scare'em away."

"I don't think that's actually possible for you to do," He shrugged, and she walked up to him, heels clicking in the office space before standing nearly nose to nose with him. 

In her heels she was just barely less than an inch shorter than him, the rims of her glasses catching the light and damn near blinding him as her grin turned smug. She knew when he was lying to her, or trying to bullshit her, and it was something she didn't stand for. "Cro," She said the name flatly, pushing a manicured nail sharply against his stomach, "You're not using any puns. This conversation's over, I'm gonna stop fishin' for a chance with these robots and you're gonna catch me one because you're a good manager and you know I'm right about this being good for both of our groups."

The office door opened as Kankri entered, and Cronus actually flinched out of surprise as he looked over. Kankri wasn't even looking at them, too busy flipping through a few different files in his hands with a look of concentration and confusion on his face, "Cronus, I was checking on the Grant Highblute account and the amount of money that's been going into hi-" Glancing up, he shut up, bright red shoes dragging to a stop as he looked between his boss and one of his bosses clients, "Oh." 

"Hey," Meenah greeted, not even seeming phased about the fact that she was half an inch away from her producer's face before stepping back, beginning to walk towards the door, "Do me a favor, Kankri, and make him reel in a little bit'a fun once in a whale? He's wound too tight." Winking once and patting Kankri's shoulder as she passed by, Meenah made her way out of the office, while Kankri just continued to look at Cronus, who was a little pink in the cheeks and nose. The call of "Later," could be heard from the waiting room before the telltale ding of the elevator sounded, allowing them to be positively drenched in silence.

Even her perfume left it's mark in the room, and that same bubbling feeling of jealously began spilling back into the bottoms of Kankri's shoes, filling him up quicker and quicker as the silence stretched on. There was even a wrinkled indent from where she'd been pushing her finger on Cronus's shirt, and the fact that it existed made Kankri's head ache a little. 

The short brunette shuffled the papers almost awkwardly, feeling the black button up he was wearing pull across his back uncomfortably as he shifted the pile of papers to be held against his chest. "Perhaps I should call Mr. English and warn him of your new client and producer relationship stance, make sure that he keeps an eye on Dirk."

"W-" Turning to look at his PA, Cronus rolled his eyes before shaking his head, his cheeks still pink as he looked at him, "Kanny, I-"

"Kankri!" He snapped out, walking over and passing the stack of files in his hands to Cronus, shoving it to his chest roughly, "My name is Kankri Vantas, what's so hard to understand about that for you?"

"I-" Cronus started, but clenched his jaw when Kankri continued, interrupting him. 

"Pardon me, but I think I may actually have a theory of why this is so hard to get through to you." He lifted a hand sarcastically, beginning to count off on his fingers, "Maybe it doesn't have enough stupid puns in it? Is it because the information is coming from the mouth of someone you don't dote over the moment they walk in the door? Perhaps I should try on a pair of heels and strut around to hold your attention longer than five seconds or the time it takes you to comment on me in some lewd manner. I suppose we could make the assumption that it's because I'm just an employee and not an all important client, but that seems a little too obvious, don't you think?" 

Nothing was said or heard as Kankri looked Cronus in the eye solidly, feeling his throat click as he swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. He'd never yelled at Cronus before, not really. Annoyed banter, but it was always with even a slight of a joke or teasing. This time, however, it was just raw. "What'd I do now?" Cronus asked surprisingly softly, and for once Kankri didn't lie or joke as he responded to that question. 

"You did absolutely nothing," Kankri said, his hands clenching at his sides, "Now go through the Highblute accounts numbers," He ordered, "I'm taking lunch."

The sounds of papers rustling, sliding apart and fluttering away before hitting the floor invaded Kankri's ears as he turned to go and was held back by a hand on his wrist. "Kankri. Stop."

Kankri heavily considered pulling his hand out of Cronus's hold, but went against it, instead looked over his shoulder at his boss. "You realize that unwanted physical contact could be extremely offensive or triggering to-" 

"For fuck's sake," Cronus sighed, reaching out and grabbing Kankri's other wrist as well so his assistant was turned towards him, "Go out to lunch with me." 

"You need to go through the Highblute accounts and you've already had your lunch break two hours ago," Kankri answered shortly, his eyes narrowing in suspicion at the statement. 

"Accounts can wait and if I really want to, I can take two breaks. Go out with me to lunch." 

"Accompany you?" 

"As my date." 

". . . . . date?" He responded, feeling his anger begin to ebb away as he processed the word. His wrists were let go as he felt two hands go to the cherry red tie he was wearing, tightening, straightening and adjusting it. 

"Date," Cronus answered back, "Because there's no way I'm losing the best assistant I've ever had or the person with the best backside I've ever laid my eyes on because he got upset at me over the way a client acted." 

"I did not-" Kankri began to argue, but was cut off.

"Can we talk about this over lunch?" Cronus asked, his hands fiddling with Kankri's tie as he looked down at him.

". . . " Letting out a huff through his nose, Kankri glanced at the ground, "You asked, therefore tradition dictates that you pay and I choose the location." 

"I think I can handle that," Cronus answered, his mouth pulling up into a smug smile as Kankri glared at the expression. 

"And you also have to pick back up and organize the files you just dropped," Kankri also bargained.

Kankri nearly smiled as Cronus crouched down, each sheet being plucked up with care and beginning to be put in order. 

Of course, it was only a few seconds before he was on his hands and knees as well, helping with the mess as Cronus looked even more smug. 

 

-

 

"Eridan, this is a terrible idea!" Fef groaned, covering her eyes with one hand as she frowned, "As your roommate and friend, I'm asking you not to do this." 

"Fef. I w-was a paying customer w-who managed to get lucky," Eridan pointed out, sending a picture from his phone to his Macbook, "If I managed to catch a picture of the performers, it's w-within my rights as a customer and as a person to post it." 

"But they don't have any information about themselves even out yet," Feferi argued, "No pictures, no names, nothing!"

"W-well then, I'll be a first," Eridan uploaded a picture of two boys, one leaning heavily on the other and pale as a ghost as the two of them were walking. It was an obviously candid shot, and the shorter one of the two looked a little sick, but Eridan was just happy that he'd managed to get it at all. 

He'd been standing, waiting for a line in the bathrooms which was stretching nearly around the corner when he saw a man and a woman talking to each other, leaning against an all black door that had obviously struck Eridan's curiosity. It was hidden, almost, a hallway that no one would have checked down otherwise if they hadn't been looking for it or interested by something in it. The hallway was practically deserted, unlike the hallway that contained the door with the performers star on it, which had cameras lined up at the ready to catch the performers. But that was on the other side of the building, though it didn't have guards. Eridan was fiddling around on his phone when he watched some boy with white hair walk through the door without a single complaint or word spoken to either part of the man or woman. But the amazing thing happened less than a minute later. 

If Eridan had had his camera pulled out, he wouldn't have even needed to stay through their entire performance. The main reason he was going was because his roommate, Feferi, loved their music, even if he didn't listen to them, and she'd gotten him a ticket. They used to be alright, but he didn't like them nearly as much after they'd gotten well known. He preferred smaller, less known bands. 

He didn't even want to be there, for hells sake, but this could almost make everything worth it. Out of that mysterious black door, from that very room walked two robot-dressed men, a familiar look to them seeing as it was the signature Daft Punk look. 

Suddenly, the concert seemed a lot more interesting, definitely enough to stay and watch. 

Eridan had stayed close to the door even as the concert was going on, ignoring Fef's offer to stand with her and spending most o the night updating his blog with meaningless rambles and thoughts. After the music stopped, Eridan tried to tuck himself around the corner and a bit more out of view as the two robots went back in through the door, two pictures getting taken of one of them moving far harsher than the other and slamming the black door shut. The man and woman body guards had been following behind them and went back to their posts. He watched as they both walked out again, this time a shorter blonde accompanying the original taller one, looking ill and seemingly having trouble walking. Three rapid fire pictures were taken as Eridan looked around, making sure he wasn't going to get caught. The bodyguards began to walk with the assumed performers, so Eridan just trailed out calmly behind them, taking a 'smoke break' and listening to them closely. 

These were the performers. That much was assured just listening to them talk to their friends after the shorter blonde one left in a taxi.

Their names were, apparently, Dirk and Dave Strider. 

There was also some sort of love triangle going on, but Eridan couldn't be bothered to care about that. He was more interested in getting more shots of this 'Dirk'.

With an iPhone at the ready and pretending to send a text, Eridan took a few extra photos, and now, the next day, Feferi was shaking her head. "Post their names if you want, but don't post any real pictures of them!" 

"W-why not?" 

"They can sue you for that," She challenged, and Eridan frowned before looking back at his computer, "And," She continued, "People can dig up a lot more pictures of them online. That's nothing special." 

"Feferi," Eridan rolled his eyes again as he added a caption, pressing 'post', "W-what's the w-worst that could happen?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Whoo, Hipster!Eridan. May be cliche, and I'm sorry for that, but it's so important to the story line that I needed to add it <33 And don't hate on him too much, he's just not understanding what the word 'consequences' means just yet. Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a comment in the section below~ Thanks for reading lovelies!))


	20. Brainwasher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I AM SO SORRY. This was my sisters wedding weekend, and I was booked and just wow I am so sorry for that wait that was ridiculous. Back to daily updates, however! So again I'm just really really really sorry and bleh. Anyways! A lot of this chapter was based off and idea by findafight on tumblr, who is a lovely human being and was very helpful when I was being dumb and having a hard time getting what I wanted to happen down on paper, so give thanks to her!))

"Hot diggity damn." The words left Jake's mouth as he looked at Dirk, who was just wearing a politely surprised expression.

Jake and Dirk were hardly talking, and at the moment they were still camped out in California for one last night until they made their way back to Texas. In about five days they needed to have John already back in San Antonio, prepared to start on his classes and moved back into his apartment with all the shit that he had spread between Jane's and Dave's apartments. The task itself was daunting, but neither Dirk or Jake cared. They had other things on their minds.

Mainly: They were still pissed at each other.

Dirk had apologized to both John and Jake, but that didn't stop his boyfriend from being irked about the actions he'd done against John. So, in return, Dirk began acting annoyed at Jake. According to him, it was because the ear that Jake had been pulling on was 'sensitive' and 'really fucking hurt still, asshole'. Both of them knew full well that any form of pain would never really elicit such a reaction from Dirk of all people, but Dirk needed something to hold against him in return and this seemed as good of a reason as any.

It was three hours after they got to their own hotel room that Jake opted to sleep on the other queen sized bed that had come with their room. So far, it had gone unused seeing as after four months of dating, they slept together every night when they were away from Houston.

So, as revenge?

Dirk got a different room.

Over the next few days, this pattern continued. Going out to lunch with everyone? Damn, he was having to work on a few things with the helmets, had to miss. How about napping in the afternoon? Obviously the only time he could do that was when he'd originally planned to sit down and set up their next few gigs with Jake. Obviously.

Two days of what Jake thought was just really unfortunate coincidences for Dirk's schedule, and now he was positively sunk.

He was ruined the moment that he walked into Dirk's new room with a plan to give him a stern talking to for missing the meeting they had planned for that afternoon and ran head first into a Strider with ungelled hair, unshaded eyes and a towel around his waist.

This forced him to put his attention on Dirk in some way other than one labeled as 'anger'.

And as much as it annoyed him to admit it, the sight of Dirk without ridiculous hair and pointed shades was not a bad one.

Hence the dumb saying.

"'Hot diggity damn'?" Dirk parroted, but with a slight smirk. He brushed past Jake, leaving him standing and looking dumbfounded as Dirk moved to get dressed, "Does that mean a good thing or a bad thing where you're from?"

"Oh, I-" Jake hadn't realized he'd actually spoken out loud. With a blush, he ducked his head, at a loss for an argument as he scratched at his scalp almost nervously,"It's nothing."

Silence, besides the rustling of clothing and packed items.

"So we're heading back out tomorrow?" Dirk questioned, sliding on a pair of pyjama bottoms and losing the towel before turning to look at Jake with a raised eyebrow.

"Bright and early," Jake responded, before remembering why he came in here. Right. Dirk had abandon him, leaving him to look like some stood up date. In all actuality, he was a stood up date in some forms, which made this all worse. Crossing his arms, he tipped his chin up slightly, "Right. I needed to talk to you, you strumpet, who do you think you are? You can't just ditch on a meeting because you don't feel like going. Before an argument between us, the band comes first, and-"

"Alright," Dirk pacified, before stepping forward, "this is ridiculous."

"Wh- Dirk!" Jake let out an indignant squeak when arms wrapped around him, Holding him nearly flush to the blonde as he looked at him with an annoyed expression, "What in the everfriggenhell do you think you're doing?"

"Two days of the cold shoulder and snippy talking," Dirk deadpanned, his face less than a foot from Jake's, "Two days. Two. Pardon me for being a needy motherfucker, but John is over it and I apologized. Why have you still been snapping at me every time I see you? Because hate to break it to you, but it's kind of the reason I was avoiding seeing you."

"Because," Jake argued with a furrowed brow, his hands going up to push at Dirk's chest once and stilling when he noticed that Dirk had his arms wrapped solidly around his ribs, "You were a prick. You attacked John out of turn and how have been ignoring me at every chance you can."

"It wasn't out of turn, he made Dave-"

"It was out of turn," Jake repeated, eyes narrowing.

Dirk clenched his jaw once before looking back at Jake directly, "Fine. It is what you want it to be. Now can we both stop with the silence and the glares?"

"I don't know, can we?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You hurt my cousin, yes, but the only thing I'm still annoyed about that your apology wasn't genuine," Jake pointed out, hands still on Dirk's chest, "John knows that but lucky for you, he's forgiven you anyways."

"Alright, you wanna know why it wasn't genuine?" Dirk questioned, his fingers squeezing Jake's sides once lightly, "Because I didn't want to apologize. He made Dave upset, and I did my job."

"Your job?" Jake repeated incredulously.

"Yes, my job. I don't let people hurt the few people that I'm alright with having around me, my job is to make sure that if that happens, I fix it and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"What, so if someone, lets say, attacked John instead of Dave-"

"I'd do the same."

"Or Jane?"

"Yup."

"Roxy."

"You could count on it."

"Me?"

Dirk paused at this, looking at Jake, "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm curious," Jake admitted, "Would you do the same for me?"

"No," Dirk responded immediately, and Jake paused.

"Oh," He said lightly, his hands dropping away from Dirk's chest as he looked down a little. Forget anger, this was strangely hurtful in a whole new way. He didn't expect Dirk to do such a thing, he could handle himself, but still the question remained, "Why not?"

"I'd never let anyone get far enough to hurt you, dumbass," Dirk said, squeezing him once again for attention. Jake looked up only to be met with an oddly honest expression and blonde hair falling in his face.

'Dumbass', what a comforting endearment. But if it was so bad, why did it make Jake smile? Jake didn't realize he'd moved to kiss Dirk until he felt Dirk sighing against his cheek, and pulling back the tanner one of the two chided softly, "This doesn't mean you're off the hook."

"It does a little," Dirk pointed out, his signature smirk making an appearance.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Fine, still on the hook, consider me bait."

"Good," Jake said before kissing Dirk again, relaxing completely as the arms around him pulled him close.

 

-

 

"Salsitas."

"Alright, what else?"

"Slim Jims?"

"Why is that a question?"

Dave was standing by the door, taking down an order for what John wanted from the gas station less than a block away during his midnight run. Well, more like a 6:30 run, but who was really counting?

"Because I don't know if I really want it or not," John reasoned, and Dave shook his head.

"Alright, mild or original?"

"Original. Aaaaaaaaaand Rockstar."

"Anything else there princess?" Dave questioned.

"Snickers."

"Where the fuck are you planning on putting all of this?" Dave asked, making a note on his phone as John chuckled. They were still on a strict 'no prolonged contact' rule, set in place after they discussed the whole 'dating' scene, but luckily they fell back into their normal banter before the day was even over. Now John was camped out on one bed and Dave on the other, Inglourious Basterds playing for the twelfth time that day seeing as it was the only chance they had to relax before going back to the hustle and bustle of college and working.

Dave nodded once and slipped on his shoes, "Be back in half an hour. Any longer and begin making me funeral arrangements."

"Don't worry, I'll die with you, of hunger," John responded with a smile as he picked up his phone, and managed to dodge his own shoe the was thrown at him with a laugh.

Dave stepped outside of their room and out into the hallway, room key going to his pocket as he walked the monotonously patterned carpet with ease. He took the stairs from the eleventh floor, totally willing to get some form of exercise in after a day of not leaving bed and suddenly wishing he could strife with either Dirk or Bro. Maybe when they got back to Houston, it would be a nice change of pace, compared to the absolute laziness that came with touring.

Two minutes later and he was opening the door to the stairs and stepping out with determination to get Salsitas and apple juice.

That is, before he nearly stumbled backwards at the sudden flashing of lights and voices, all sounding like one large gurgle as if they were in a wind tunnel.

Thank god for shades, otherwise he would have been blinded.

"What in the actual fuc-" he began, the whoosh of all the talking suddenly bursting into actual words, each person who was shoving a camera in his face asking something different.

"Dave! Dave can you make a comment about the daily life of a robot?"

"Is it true that you and your brother started this band as a way to stand up to the technological age?"

"Dave Strider, care to make a comment on the rumors that you're dating one of your body guards?"

"Dave Strider, did you or your brother create Daft Punk?"

Oh shit. Oh fuck oh shit oh actual living fuck. How- When- What? The sudden group of people was causing him to freeze up, his jaw clenching slightly as his breathing all but stopped. How did they find out? How did they know? Nepeta and Equius had kept an eye out for paparazzi, they'd even set it up so the idiots with cameras were waiting outside the wrong door at nearly every show they'd ever done. They'd never even gotten their picture taken when they were just Dirk and Dave, how the actual fuck did someone get their full names and know what they looked like?

The same feeling as before came back, the same feeling of panic and the need to disappear and yet for the life of him Dave couldn't move his feet. Instead he was just sitting, watching as all the work to keep him and his brother out of the limelight suddenly shattered and collapsed around him.

From behind him, the door to the stairway opened loudly, causing the flashing to get faster if it was possible, a hand grabbed him and yanked him back into the stairwell. The door shutting with a loud thud and the sounds of hotel staff clear as they began to shoo all the paparazzi out of the lobby rang through clearly. Dave looked up and made eye contact with John, who was breathing a little heavily and looking concerned. "You alright?" He asked, his hand still on Dave's shoulder, and the blonde nodded almost numbly.

"How-?" Dave started, glancing back at the door before looking at John.

"Dunno," John admitted, holding up his phone, "But someone spilled."

On the screen, the cover of TMZ had a picture of Turntech and Di-Stri performing, right next to an apparent candid shot of Dave leaning heavily on Dirk when they were leaving the club just a few days ago. "I chased you down, I was afraid they'd already be here," John admitted, his cheeks pink from exertion, "From what I could read before I ran down here, they only know about you from some blogger. They don't know about Jake, or Sollux or anyone. Just you and Dirk, full names and faces."

Passing the phone back, Dave clenched his hands at his sides momentarily before nodding once, "Alright, you call Sollux and ask him to track down that blog, and I'll get ahold of Cronus. We need to make our way up to Dirk's room, and then we'll go get Jake."

John nodded in agreement, flicking through his contacts and giving a call to one of his friends that was still in Texas as he and Dave began up the stairs.

It rang two times before someone picked up, the voice familiar and welcoming as ever, "He's busy, what do you want?"

"Hi to you too, Karkat," John sighed, even though it was a little amusing, "We need your help."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Dave and I."

"And just why the fuck would we do anything to help you two?"

"Someone leaked photos of Dave and Dirk and we need you to find out who."

There was a pause, and Karkat actually sounded confused, "Why would it matter if Dirk and Dave's pictures were leaked?"

"Because they're Daft Punk," John said as if it were obvious, and there was a rustling sound on the other line as the phone was passed from Karkat to Sollux.

"You're meaning to tell me that Dave ith one of thothe fucking robotth?" Sollux asked, the sound of keys clicking easily heard over the receiver.

"Well we were never supposed to," John pointed out, Dave now talking to Cronus as the two of them walked upstairs in unison, "But yeah."

"Jeguth they are all over the internet," Sollux mumbled, and after about two minutes of silence as Dave explained the situation to Cronus, there was another sound of shuffling.

"Wait so that blonde asshole who was agreeing with me that Daft Punk could go suck a hard drive is one of the fucking makers of that band?" Karkat asked, and John sighed.

"Yup! Now did Sollux get the name of that blogger?"

"'Eridan Ampora'," Karkat read off, and John stopped walking.

"Ampora?" John questioned, looking over and catching Dave's eye, who stopped walking too.

"Yeah, Eridan Ampora, the blog called the Caliginous Aquarium. Fuck, that is a shitty title."

"You're positive it's Ampora though?"

"Yeah, Eridan Ampora. E-R-I-D-A-N A-M-P-O-R-A. Why, is that important?"

"A little. Look we'll get back to you two soon alright?"

"No rush," Karkat assured, and John thanked him before hanging up and turning to look at Dave.

John spoke, "Eridan Ampora is the name of the dude who's blog this came from. The blog's called Caliginous Aquarium, but it's definitely from Eridan Ampora."

The phone was still pressed against Dave's ear as he looked at John, his expression blank. "Cronus?"

"Yeah?" The voice from the other end spoke, the owner of said voice in the kitchen of his fathers house. He'd driven all the way up to Arizona, seeing as his younger brother was heading off to college and it was a small celebration for him. He'd had to excuse himself about five minutes ago after getting a call from Dave, and after sudden silence, he felt a little on edge. This wasn't good, this leak wasn't supposed to happen, they'd been keeping them hidden really well and now it was going to be hard as hell to fix.

"Who the fuck is Eridan?" Dave asked, and Cronus stilled, blinking a few times.

"My little brother. How-"

"Did you tell him anything about us? Did you tell him to say anything about Daft Punk? Did you tell him who we are?"

"What? Dave do you hear yourself?" Cronus actually looked as confused as he sounded, "Why he hell would I go'n do something like that? He doesn't even know that I'm your producer, I don't talk about work with anyone in my family."

"He's the one who posted this shit," Dave said.

". . . . You're sure?"

"According to Sollux, he's the source of all this. He posted it on some blog of his, Caligulas's Aquarium or some shit and Sollux and Karkat seem pretty fucking sure."

There was a thud, and Dave was damn near positive that Cronus had just dropped the phone before the sound of something breaking and the yells of two different male voices filled the receiver. He looked at John before turning it on speaker, holding it between them so they could hear the broken, far away bits of conversation.

"Cronus-!"

"-The fuck is wrong with you?!"

Something shattered again, along with another yell.

"What did I-?!"

"You photosnatchin' little shit, I will kill you!"

"Eridan! Cronus!" An older voice called out, "Sit down!"

Again, something broke, and ending the call, Dave looked at John with honest surprise painted on his face, the dark haired boy mirroring the gaze, before the two of them dissolved into laughter.

"This isn't funny," Dave reminded through the laughter, the words getting cut off from his own chuckling as John giggled with a nod of agreement.

"Totally not amusing at all," He promised, having to lean on Dave a little to keep from falling over as the two of them laughed even harder.

"Dead serious situation here," Dave said, an arm going around John's shoulder with another laugh as they began to go back up the stairs.

"Not a laughing matter in the slightest."

"Nope."

"Not at all."

By the time they both got enough breath in to calm down, they each had an arm wrapped around the others shoulder, managing to get out of the stairwell on the sixth floor to go to the elevator. Next stop: Dirk's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments? Questions? Concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a message below. Thanks for reading lovelies, and again sorry for the wait!!))


	21. Steam Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Really really short. Wow. But hey, two new characters! Hope you guys like it, and I'll probably update before the day is done. Again.))

"Hey, Tavbro," the tall, multi-colored hair one greeted, sitting down by the bed of his friend. Of course, the bedded one didn't respond, he hadn't for nearly a week now. Every day he was greeted, and every day he was silent.

That wasn't the normal case. Usually he would have lit up like a candle and respond with an enthusiastic "Hey Gamzee!" But usually he wouldn't have been at the Children's hospital where Gamzee worked and usually, he'd be a lot less injured. 

Usually. But getting hit by a drunk driver when you're on your way home has a way of hurting you pretty badly. 

"Silent treatment? That hurts, motherfucker," Gamzee joked lightly, scratching at his nose carefully to avoid smearing the white and grey facepaint he wore. Along with said facepaint, he wore an easy smile and black hair, wild in length but also in the fact that it had about thirty strips of different colors. There were some from all over the color spectrum, most different hues of pinks, blues, and greens. Some faded, some fresh, but the most vibrant being one white patch right on the left side of his head and the other being a large, vibrant royal purple on the right half of his head. It had been there for years and the upkeep was often enough that none of the natural black poked through. The white patch was the newest addition, but it turns out that Gamzee wouldn't need it just yet. Which, in all actuality, was the best news he'd heard in weeks.

"So," He started, sitting down, "Motherfuckin' nurses told me you woke up for a while last night. Said you weren't makin' much sense, but can't really blame you. Gotta admit though, the new hair fits you." The hair in question was cut to give access to the two areas that needed to be stitched, up either side of Tavros Nitram's head. Two clean lines made by a bench that he was hit into and leaving the haircut as a shaggy haired mohawk. 

Tavros offered up nothing in reply, obviously, but that didn't stop Gamzee from talking. It was almost procedure now: Gamzee would visit the kids throughout a few different wards at the same times every day, all the way from ICU to Cancer to Trauma and so on, until five when his workday ended, and then from five until nine he would stay with his friend. 

He and Tavros had known each other for years. since they were both in the seventh grade and met through, surprisingly enough, Make-A-Wish. Tavros, because he was supposed to write about it for his English class and ended up finding out that the founder was Greg Makara, the father of one of the boys in his class. This started the two of them talking, and according to everyone, "They just clicked." In a week they were better friends than most people were in years of knowing each other. 

When he was 16, Gamzee  got a job at Make-A-Wish to cheer kids up. The facepaint was something that one of the little boys added during his first month on the job, because "a clown has to have makeup, silly!" and now he was known for it. Tavros went with him so often that he was just as loved by each kid, all of them playing cops and robbers or pirates with him while Gamzee made balloon animals (despite the fact that he wasn't very good) and listened to stories. He was stationed at the children's hospital in Virgina, and had finished high school along side Tavros three months prior. He was 18, but Tavros was still only 17, his birthday later in the summer. 

Meaning that he was put up in the Children's hospital when he was hit by a car going 70 while he was walking home.

And now he was here, the notorious clown sitting in the same place that he always was for the past week, shooting the breeze with someone who'd only woken up once in his entire stay in the Trauma ward. 

"So guess what motherfucker? My dad called, said he's got a wish waitin' for you. Motherfuckin' miracle, huh? A week ago we weren't even sure if you were ever gonna wake up, and here you are getting wishes granted." Clearing his throat, he sat back a little bit, "All the little brothers and little sisters are wondering what happened to you. Peter wants to play pirates and apparently you've got a motherfucking skill with playing with him. I ain't very good, I guess. Had to explain to 'em all that you weren't visitin' 'cause you're sick like they are, having a hard time leaving the bed."

Reaching down to the black messenger bag that he used for toting games that he played with some of the kids, he pulled out a small grouping of papers, each having different drawings and all containing Tavros, when his hair still covered his entire head and a smile on his face, even if it was just a scraggly black line. "Kids miss you, brother," He sighed, setting the papers down on Tavros's bedside table for when he woke up again.

He was silent for a sec before perking up a little, "Oh! I forgot to motherfuckin' tell you, that band you like made some more music. Downloaded it last night, thought you'd like it." Flicking through his phone, he began to play some electronic music that started coming out when they were still in high school, that he knew Tavros loved. 

" _Prime time of your life. . . . "_  The words were quiet in comparison to the beeping of Tavros's heart monitor, but Gamzee paused for a moment before standing up suddenly. The idea that struck was one that he thought was sheer gold, and he knew Tavros well enough to know that it was a good one.

Popping his head out of the room, he looked at the nurses at the Nurse's Station, all of whom he'd known since he'd started working there, "Call me if anything changes, please?" Of course there was nodding and verbal reassurances, but he was too caught up with his thoughts, already going back into Tavros's room. "Tavbro, I gotta go really quick, I'll be right back alright? Gotta go see my dad and get a motherfucking miracle arranged." A hand went to pat Tavros's once, another unsaid ritual that he did every time he had to leave, before running out of the hospital room, his bag still on the floor and his phone still playing the newest track by Daft Punk.

 

-

 

"Fuck. You."

"Do you want me to punch the other eye too?" Cronus challenged, holding a washcloth to his split lip as Eridan held the icepack to his right eye, his broken glasses being fiddled with in his free hand. The two of them were sitting in their father's living room, said father having gone upstairs to grab peroxide and superglue for Cronus's lip as well as Eridan's cheek. 

"I don't get w-why you punched the first one!" Eridan snapped, glaring at his brother. 

"You fucking ruined my client's band, dipshit."

". . . .Come again?" 

"Daft Punk is signed with Alternia Records, under my supervision and here you go posting pictures of Dirk and Dave while one of them was throwing his damn guts up," Cronus sighed, feeling his lip gush a little from all the talking, "Of all people it had to be you. Dave thought I told you to leak that, you know that? You damn near turned a friend against me."

"You're kiddin'," Eridan tried to rationalize, "You can't be their producer, you would hav-ve-"

"When have I ever told you shit about my job?" Cronus asked, his anger still close enough to the surface that it was beginning to flare and show, "When have I ever needed to?" 

The sound of their father descending the stairs filled the space between them, and Eridan remained quiet, pressing the icepack solidly against his eye. 

Suddenly, Cronus's phone rang again, and looking at the contact he gave the smallest sigh of relief before answering, "Hey doll."

"I know this is considered your vacation time and I don't mean to intrude on quality time with family, but there's a small issue that's arisen with Daft Punk," Kankri started, and Cronus waved a hand. 

"I know, trust me."

"You know that a child from Make-A-Wish requested a meet with them? I only got the call a few hours ago, how could you-"

"God damn it," Cronus groaned, his head falling forward. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a message in the comment section below <3 Thanks for reading!))


	22. Recognizer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Please don't hate me))  
> ((**TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of cancer and death by cancer. Please proceed with caution, lovelies, I don't want to upset anyone or bring up bad memories or thoughts. Sorry for not adding this earlier**))

"Is he up yet?" 

"How can he still be sleepin'?"

"Woooooooooow, he must be tiiiiiiired."

All five of the kids around Tavros were looking at him in awe, and a seven year old named Peter, from the Cancer Ward, touched his hair with a confused expression. "He looks like a pirate," Peter mumbled, "He's supposed to be Peter Pan! He can't look like a pirate. When my hair grows back, I'm gonna get one of these too, so I can look like a pirate." The logic seemed sound to him as he decided aloud, and a few of the other kids nodded, while one of the smaller ones just shook his head. One from the Trauma Ward, named Ella, age eight, tugged on Gamzee's shirt to get his attention. 

"It's kinda like mine!" She pointed out enthusiastically, her smile missing the front two teeth as she lifted a hand to run over the shaved half of her head. The other side was full of hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, blonde and thick, and kept on her request after they had to cut the other side to stitch up a gash sustained from falling debris in the house fire she was in.

Kyle was the next one to speak up, also from the cancer ward but only six with tanned skin and a curious gaze, "Are you gonna cut your hair like his, Gam? Like Peter wants ta?"

Passing out a few papers to the kids, the last two being Andy and Sarah who were both nine, Gamzee shook his head of wild hair, and Sarah smiled at the blur of colors. "Can't, little brother," He began to explain, sitting down, "These colors are important, you know? Meaning I gotta keep them as long as I can, no cuttin' 'em off." 

"Important? Like the bright one?" Andy asked, pointing at the large patch of violet. Gamzee smiled, glad that through the face makeup it didn't look at forced as it was, and nodded. 

"Yup, just like that one. They're all important just like it. Now you guys wanted to leave Tavbro some get well cards, right?" 

All agreed repeatedly, nodding with toothy smiles and Andy having to readjust his wheelchair a bit to let Ella and Sarah pull up chairs next to him. Pens were passed out, and at the bottom corner of Tavros's bed Gamzee also set out a bin filled with markers and colored pencils. He sat back with the plan to write one with the kids, something that he usually would do, when his phone went off. 

"Phooooooooooooooooooone," Ella and Peter dragged out in unison, as they always did when either he or Tavros were with the kids and got a call or text. 

Gamzee chuckled and checked the message, the frown that followed causing Kyle to look up from his paper, the only contents so far having a stick drawing of Tavros with his new hair, "You okay?" 

"Yeah, little brother," Gamzee assured, looking at the message with a furrowed brow before standing, "I'll tell Nurse Anna to come in here and chill with you little brothers and sisters, but right now a little sister needs a clown."

The kids didn't even question it, but Ella offered up her paper, "Give this to her!" 

When Gamzee grabbed for it, it only said 'Get Well Soon!' in swirly, shaky pink writing, a few flowers drawn in the corners. "It's beautiful, friend, I know she'll love it," Gamzee smiled, giving her a high five as he walked out of the room, "Make sure that our brother stays sleepin', he still needs his beauty rest." 

This got giggles out of the bunch as Gamzee made his way out of the Trauma Ward after sending a nurse in to accompany the kids. On the way, he actually ran into Rufioh, Tavros's older brother and guardian. He visited earlier in the day than Gamzee did, when it didn't intervene with his job and when he could have some time alone with his brother. Unfortunately at the moment, he was going to have to share Tavros with a few younger friends, but Gamzee didn't think he'd mind that much. Next he strolled back to Peter's ward, the Cancer Ward, and the place that he usually spent the morning times. He got to a room that was familiar, and was immediately greeted with a large smile, "Gam!"

"Hey, little sister," He greeted with his own grin, stepping in and looking around. He'd been in this room once a day for about three months now, while Ava, the girl in question, had been fighting off cancer in the stomach. Progress was slow, sometimes none, but even through all the pain she managed to remain smiling. She was tough, for a thirteen year old. And even if you're tough, things can be hard without a chance to smile or a person who you can talk to. So, of course, her favorite thing was a clown to talk to, one that told silly jokes, played games and even painted her face when it was okay'd by her doctors. 

She just needed to smile throughout the day, and that was Gamzee's job.

But for the past few weeks her progress had been slow, and the text he received from her nursing staff was making him feel a little nervous as he sat down. Not that he'd show it of course. "How's my best friend doin'?"

"I'm tired," She admitted, eyes crinkling a little as she scrunched her nose, "Plus the new medication is making my mouth taste really bad." 

"Hmm." Gamzee stuck out his bottom lip in though before turning and digging into his bag, grabbing out a small pouch and revealing it to be a packet of Skittles. "If we don't tell no one else, think you'll be okay to have a few?" 

She nodded with another smile, cupping her hands and letting the rainbow pour into them with a spark in her eye. Popping a few into her mouth, she shuffled her feet a little with a happy sigh, "Grape is the best flavor." 

"Really? People usually hate it," Gamzee said, eating a red Skittle himself and falling quiet for just a moment. It was sobering, to know that this would be a final visit, but it was also routine, a routine that he despised and cherished all at once. So, as he always did, he sat a bit straighter, and his words felt just a bit heavier. "Now Ava we already talked this morning, and I gotta leave in a minute, but I gotta ask you somethin'," He started, looking over at her, "What's your favorite color?"

She actually laughed a little, "You sounded so serious over a color!" But, Ava tipped her head, chewing thoughtfully, before lifting a hand and pointing at the purple invading the black of Gamzee's hair, "That color right there." 

"No way! That was my brother's favorite too," Gamzee said happily, they grey outline of his mouth accentuating his smile as he ate another Skittle, "He wore it all the time. It's my favorite too." 

"I didn't know you had a favorite," Ava admitted, "You have so many colors in your hair that I thought you just kinda liked everything!"

"They're not my favorite, little sister, but they're important all the same. Speakin' of important," He took the paper that Ella had drawn, "It's from a fellow fightin' sister, she thought you'd like it."

Ava opened her mouth to speak, but a knock at the door interrupted them, causing both to look up in tandem. In the doorway stood Ava's doctor, along with both of her parents, who were wearing watery smiles. Leaning over, he spoke quietly, "I think that's my cue, best friend. Gotta dash."

As always, Ava gave him a hug, which this time he gave a tight hug back instead of just the usual pat on the back. When he stood up, he kept his head slightly ducked for reasons unknown to the young girl, and walked briskly to the door with a hand tight at his side. He was stopped, however, by the sound of Ava's voice from the bed. "See you tomorrow?" She asked hopefully, almost a little fearful. Gamzee stopped as he was right in the doorway, getting a pat on the shoulder from her father and and a tearful smile from her mother. 

Looking over his shoulder he nodded, "Can do."

 

By the next day, the call had come through saying Ava had passed away, and another strip of color joined the group on Gamzee's head. This one, the same royal purple as his brothers, just a smaller strip on the left that was previously white. The strip he'd been planning on dyeing a rust color when they told him that Tavros might not wake up. 

 

-

"So you guys came out? So proud of you, way to do it on TMZ of all places. And remember, I'll accept you no matter what lifestyle you choose." Bro was reclining on the sofa as TMZ played, the phone in his hand nearly deafening him at the sigh that rang through. 

"Alright, come on, bring on the gay jokes, yes, Daft Punk got outed, but we didn't choose this shit. Plus worst of all it was Cronus's little brother that fucking did it, by accident or some shit," Dave said, sitting in the car with Dirk, Jake and John. John and Jake were passed out, and Dirk was the only other one awake, still driving. It had been two days since Dave was ambushed at the hotel, and with way more effort than wanted, they managed to get out of the hotel and on their way back to Houston to grab all of John's shit before dropping him back off in San Antonio. 

It was about six in the evening when Bro called, watching a shitty rerun of TMZ and realized that the dude who looked like he was about to pass out on screen was actually his little bro. Seeing this, he figured it was worthy a phone call. Jake and John had to do most of the hauling out to the car seeing as they weren't as recognizable, and they both passed out within the first hour of the car ride. "You sure that was by accident?" Bro questioned. 

"Considering I think Cronus beat the shit out of him over the phone? Yeah, I'm pretty sure. He also called us back a few hours later, apparently some kid in Virginia wants to meet us for Make-A-Wish."

"So do you have to do it?" 

"Not if we don't want to."

"But you're a giant fucking sap and are gonna do it anyways?" Bro asked, picking at his fingernails. 

"More on Dirk's insistence than mine, got a little soft spot for the little buddy," Dave pawned off falsely, and Dirk grabbed the handle to recline his seat and slammed the seat back against Dave's knees in retaliation. 

"Something's telling me that's not really true," Bro answered honestly, arching an eyebrow.

"Nah, the kid is apparently buddies with the founder of Make-A-Wish's kid. Cronus is kind of conning us into it."

"Cash?"

"Doesn't work anymore. He promised a week without calling or expecting a new song."

"So then you're definitely going to do it."

"Oh fuck yeah," Dave scoffed.

"Maybe then you ca- God damn it." The doorbell rang twice, cutting off Bro's next teasing jest and breaking the sentence with a grunt as he stood up,"One sec, someone's at the door. Don't know who the fuck it could be though, I don't have any clients right now and I didn't order anything." 

"Maybe it's a better personality," his younger brother suggested helpfully.

"Yeah fuck you too little man," Letting the phone drop to his side, Bro opened the door, "Hello, what c-"

"Brodrick!" 

In an instant, Bro had frozen completely. Breathing, stopped. Movement was restricted to his heart, which sped up to five times its normal pace and to his eyes, which widened just a little behind his shades. Before he knew what was happening, the feeling like a lost sixteen year old once more hit him with the force of a fucking train and he wanted to slam the door shut. He wanted a fist to fly out and hit the two people standing in the threshold of his house in the face. He wanted to have never opened his door, and he wanted to run. 

He didn't want to be a thirty year old man who felt fourteen years younger. 

Bro Strider, poker face and cool guy extraordinaire felt all of this in less than two seconds, and gave no indication that he felt anything at all.

The only movement he made was the hand wrapped around his phone tightened, enough that he felt the screen crack. 

From the other end, Dave frowned, hearing an odd crackling sound fill his ear. "Bro?"

"Oh." That was Bro's voice, Dave could recognize it in an instant.

"Where are my boys? Where are Dirk and Davie?" The question could be heard distantly in a female voice, and Dave's nose crinkled up, looking at Dirk over the seat.

"Who the fuck has ever called me 'Davie'?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I hate me this entire chapter is just mean))
> 
> ((Comments, questions, concerns, all that jazz, send me a message at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a comment below. I'm sorry.))


	23. One More Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Dear. God. I wrote this entire chapter on a tablet. Right now? Posting it on a tablet. Why, you ask? Because my computer met its premature end and now I am typing on a touch screen. If anything looks stupid, I'm sorry, its auto correct, and I hope this is alright. I will respond to comments later tonight but for now I need sleep and a chance to get away from this tablet.))

 "Davie?" Dirk repeated with a frown, "What a stupid pet name." 

"Do we know any chicks anyways over the age of 30? Because this lady did not sound younger than that."

"Nah man, we live in a world of pure testosterone, bar Jane and Roxy. And Rose. And Jade. Point being, that sounds way too old to be any of them." 

"But it rings a bell," Dave admitted, and Dirk hated that he could agree with that statement. Jesus the last time he even heard the name 'Davie' used was. . . . 

When he heard it before he walked in on the sight of Bro sporting a black eye. A Gameboy with Pokemon Sapphire in hand while his brother dealt with the assholes that ran the house. The day their parents left. Dirk had been stuck in their room on Bro's order not to come out, but eventually had turned down the volume of his game to listen in. Considering Bro didn't give him any sign that it wasn't okay to do so, Dirk had leaned against the door while Dave slept, and remembered hearing Bro speaking ," _Don't call him Davie, he hates that. It's-"_

"Dave, give me the phone," Dirk ordered, reaching his hand back and holding it out expectantly. 

"What, something wrong?" Dave asked, leaning between the two front seats and propping his elbows up on the shoulders and the phone dropping in to Dirk's hand immediately.

He was ignored as Dirk brought the phone to his ear, speaking loud enough to wake up both Jake and John while using a fake, deep voice, "Sir? We must set up your appointment for your house inspection." Hopefully it would be heard to anyone in the vicinity, not just Bro, due to the volume. That was the goal.

"What the actual fuck are you-" The words dissolved into gibberish as Dave had a hand hit against his mouth, both Jake and John scrubbing at their eyes or stretching before staring at Dirk with interested and bloodshot gazes.

A rustling sound emitted into Dirks ear before Bro was speaking again, Dirk hearing him excuse himself before responding, "Of course. What time were you planning on coming here?" 

"Roughly seven o'clock tomorrow evening."

"I'm not sure that time frame will work. I have some guests that I don't want to bother." The way his tone dropped made Dirk stiffen a little, and John looked at Dave in a silent question of what was happening but received a shrug in reply. "I would say wait five days to a week before stopping by. But if they leave early I may call this number back and talk to your secretary, seeing as I will no longer have company to disturb."

"Sounds good," Dirk sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a split second before saying quietly, "Sorry we aren't there, Bro."

A fake laugh that you would use on the phone while awkwardly making an appointment came from Bro, still playing the part Dirk had assigned him, "Its quite aright, I can assure. Its better for you to be here in a few days rather than now, I'm just grateful that your schedule will work with mine."

From the back seat, Dave's nose scrunched the slightest bit as he watched his brother. "That was he creepiest laugh I have ever heard him make. Even when he pretended to voice Cal when I was younger. He sounds like he's on one of those Snuggy infomercials and was just passed a bowl of popcorn while wearing a sleeved blanket," Dave said to John, who almost smiled while Dirk nodded.

"Again, thank you for your cooperation. Call back if anything changes," Dirk continued to say in his entirely fake tone, glancing sideways at Jake and earning a worried look in return.

"Can do." The line fell dead, and Dave's phone fell to Dirk's lap.

"Son of a bitch," Dirk tightened his grip one steering wheel for a moment as a car flying passed them honked, the sound tapering off as they drove the opposite direction. A few specks of rain began to hit the windshield as they sped down the highway, Dirk clearing his throat as he thought of a plan. "New plan for when we get to Houston. Dave, we're staying at Jake's for a week. John can go get his shit from Janes house alone and you can drive him up to San Antonio, but while you're in Houston you're gonna wear a fucking hat or something so you don't stick out like such a fucking toe head, Johnny Bravo. We're not going back to our house for at least a week, just to be safe, maybe more. Bro's orders."

"Awesome, great. I'll even wear a fruit hat and become a better Carmen Miranda than the dancer herself if you want me to, but why the fuck are we doing this? Seriously this build up is more extensive than playing Clue, now who killed Mr. Body with a candle stick in the library?"

"Our parents," Dirk responded with the most emotionless tone Jake had ever heard him use. This drove the car into silence, the significance only lost on John, who knew nothing of their raising. By judging by Dirks tone and the way Dave almost visibly bristled, it was fairly obvious to assume their parents were not a welcome subject.

"Parents?" John asked, and he could have sworn that both Dave and Dirk had forgotten there were other people in the car. Each of them tensed immensely, Dave still blank faced and Dirk turned away, facing the road.

That was enough for Dave to feel the need to clarify, "We don't have any parents."

"Sperm and egg donor," Dirk agreed, and Dave nodded.

"So what, they're showing up now after all this time?" Dave scoffed, shuffling almost uncomfortably at he prospect of his parents even stepping foot their home. Home was a sanctuary where they could make music and sword fight, or sleep and relax without the worries that they had at their old apartment. They would soil it, taint it like a rich person in Walmart.

"Why wouldn't they?" Disk huffed, "You and I are posted on every shitty tabloid this side of the asteroid belt, they probably came crawling back thinking that we have money pouring out of our ears."

". . . . We do have money pouring from our ears. In giant flowing rivets. Shit's like Niagara Falls."

"Well we're not gonna let them know that, now are we?” Dirk challenged, passing Dave's phone off to Jake, "Now put on some music, we've still got fifteen hours of driving and you guys are finally awake."

While Jake selected music, Dave sat back in his seat, John returning to sit right next to him. The two of them were quiet while Dirk and Jake tried to look up good music, hearing quiet bickering as Jake wanted to listen to contemporary and Dirk wanted to listen to something relaxing, like classical. In the backseat, everything was quiet, both boys seemingly lost in thought until John jolted in surprise as a hand was set to lay over his own. Looking down at Dave's fingers draped over his, John looked up at the blonde before Dave spoke.

"Still not trusting you fully, man, but in my fragile emotional state I need a little lovin'," Dave began, "I mean talk about Spanish soap opera, my parents wheedle their way back into our lives after cold hard abandonment nearly fifteen years ago? Scenes which definitely would have been filmed in black and while for dramatic effect? Talk about a reason to throw myself at the first available guy. You can't tell right now but I'm totally giving you bedroom eyes, see the eyebrows working their magic?"

John rolled his own eyes as he flipped his hand over, Dave lacing their fingers together while the blue eyed one spoke, "You just hate being actually serious, don't you?" He questioned, looking at Dave with a fond expression and also a shaking head, "Seriously all the time I've known you and you've been serious maybe once."

"That's one more time than most people see," Dave pointed out, listening as the radio was eventually flicked on in lieu of both men up front arguing about what to listen to, "I'm only honestly serious when it comes to things that deserve it."

John let out a small sigh, tightening his grip on Dave's hand minimally, "And this isn't worth being serious?" 

"They treated my entire childhood like a joke, I can't treat this like one?"

 This caused John to fall silent, while Dave just held his hand. He was tempted to ask why their parents were so bad in their eyes, or why they hated them so much. Growing up with his father, John had always been taught to treat and speak to your elders with the utmost respect, and to hear them refer to the people who brought them into this world by the names of "sperm and egg donors" was startling and confusing. But the most interesting thing of all was that John knew both Dave and Dirk had to have been treated badly to act such a way. So, the question was: what had happened? "Dude. I can see how hard you're making your brain strain. Now relax a little, we've got the radio, a thing of sheer quality and absolute shit, to listen to."

"Do you really want to bash the radio, chum?" The former radio DJ questioned from up front, having heard Dave's final statement.

"Bring it Jake," Dave said conversationally, putting his free hand behind his head in a casual stance as his grip on Johns hand tightened, "Drown me with the knowledge and power of the English Channel."

 

\-  

 

"Who was that?" Their mother asked as Bro hung up the phone, wringing her small hands on the handle of her purse, her nails done in fuchsia and too long to be natural, "You need a house inspection?" 

"Standard procedure after moving into this building," Bro lied, looking between his mother and father respectively. His father had a lot more grey hair then before, more wrinkling around the eyes and lips that looked like they'd been crinkle cut. He looked tired, old, and something that damn near froze Bro's stomach was the smile he wore. It was. . . grandfatherly. Something that would set others at ease but nearly raised the oldest Striders hypothetical hackles. 

His mother, in comparison, didn't have a single wrinkle on her. Round, shiny cheeks and a bigger bottom lip than he remembered. She was still pretty, surprisingly enough, but only in the face. Her white blonde hair now dyed instead of natural and was fried and frizzy while her nails looked like claws. Seeing them both looking so old compared to the memory of a fifteen year time difference was humbling in the oddest way. 

"Well didn't we teach you better manners?" His father said in a friendly and teasing tone, and the hand that had put Bro's phone away balled up in the refuge of his pocket while the blonde boys jaw clenched, "Aren't you going to invite us in?"

Bro was quiet as he stepped to the side, heels and leather shoes clicking against the dark wood floor as thy entered his apartment. "Why Broderick, this is wonderful!" His mother gasped to herself, raising a hand laden with different cheap jewelry to her chest, "In all the time we were searching for you, we never imagined you find somewh-"

"Searching for me?" Bro interrupted, his brow nearly furrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

Her expression turned sad as she walked forward. God, compared to his 6'3, she was tiny, her head barely meeting his chest, "We came back a few months later than planned, a whole lot of things keeping us from coming home, and you and the boys were gone." Her hand went to Bro's forearm, looking up at him with theatrically wide eyes, "Your aunt passed away while we were visiting her, god rest her soul, and we had to prepare everything. The funeral, selling her house, the contacting of family members, everything. We tried to call, and you never picked up. By the time we got back here, even after trying to reach you. . . All three of you were gone."

As she spoke Bro's expression actually changed from blank, now looking genuinely annoyed as he looked down at her, "Are you hearing yourself? You left three kids under the age of sixteen alone for months on end with forty bucks to their name and you're coming back fifteen years later to make up for it?"

"Now Brodrick that's no way to talk to your mother," his father butted in, but just like always, Bro turned on him as well.

"And you," Bro started, looking up at his dad, "what about you? The last time I saw you I had to wear shades for a week just to cover the goodbye you gave me. Both of you have no right to be here, none."

"But baby we're your parents," his mother reminded, her eyes getting a pink tint to them as well as her nose, tears surfacing, "We knew you could take care of the boys, and we never thought you'd leave the house."

"You knew we'd have to. The rent was paid off for two months, and usually you two never would have paid extra if you could help if. You planned it. You planned leaving us and now you wanna act like that never happened?"

Letting go of her sons arm, Bro's mother began to sniffle, wiping at her watering eyes carefully, "Brodrick-" 

"Bro. My name is Bro, and I want to know why you two are here. I also want to know how you found us." Taking his shades off and hang in them off the collar of his white shirt, he looked between them.

"We hired a private investigator. It cost everything we had left," his father sighed, sagging a little. Bro could swear he watched him age another year just then.

"And even though I had to drop out of school to take care of the kids you abandoned, I don't think I'm stupid enough to guess that the reason you're here is anything but the fact that you saw the boys on TV."

"We wanted to congratulate them," his mother promised, her eyes still welled a bit, "And to apologize for leaving. If we'd known this would happen we never would have-"

"Wait. 'If you'd known this was gonna happen'?" Bro repeated, jaw setting, "so what, if you'd known they were gonna be famous suddenly it would have been worth the trouble to actually raise them?"

"Honey that's not what I mean," she tried to correct, "I just mean- we need the money and-"

"Me. I quit school, got two jobs, kept them in line and taught them how to take care of themselves. Me alone. And I never knew they would go on to get rich. Sure, they're smart kids, but I thought they'd get normal jobs, have normal lives. I stuck around even without that knowledge. Because that shouldn't matter to anyone. They are my boys, not people that you can that you can mooch off of or reap the benefits from. I don't care if you need money, I don't care if you guys have a loan shark trailing you. You are nothing to them, period. Hell, Dave probably wouldn't even remember you its been so long. And Dirk, he sure as hell wouldn't give you anything. You don't deserve their money, and you don't deserve them. Get out of my house, this discussion is over." Gesturing at the door, Bro looked between them with a stern expression.

At this point his mother was flat out crying, black makeup pooling a little under her eyes and making the illusion of dark circles from hell. His father stepped forward until they were chest to chest, staring his son down. Or, at least just staring. Unlike years ago before he'd grown up, Bro was now level with his dad, and his eyes narrowed a touch as they looked at one another. 

"You didn't raise them," his father said in a quiet tone, "you took them from us while we were away. You denied us years with our two younger sons because we went on a trip and came back to an empty house."

"House? That didn't count as a house, that place was a shithole. And you abandon all three of us, I took them where I needed to to keep them safe."

"You abducted them," His father growled, "And in court we can make you pay for that."

It was then what his father was saying made sense. "Your gonna try to take me to court on the grounds that I abducted Dave and Dirk?"

"We didn't want it to come to this," His mother nearly sobbed, "But you took our boys. We'll have to sue."

"Cut the shit, we all know you guys need cash. You really think you're gonna win a lawsuit against me? Go right ahead, good fucking luck. I've been their legal guardian since my eighteenth birthday, I'm positive I'll win."

"We just want what's fairly ours," His father said, and Bro's eyebrows shot up to his well groomed hairline.

"Oh I'm sorry, at what point did you ever get the impression you earned anything?"

Bro caught the fist that flew for his jaw, his fingers curling around his fathers hand and yanking so he could grab the front of his shirt. Even after all this time he knew what would push his buttons just right. Somethings never changed, he supposed, walking and dragging his dad back to the front door with yelling from his mom and a startled string of noises from his father. Opening it, he threw the aged man through the threshold, feeling his mother scramble past him. He didn't bother with any sort of goodbye or insult; the moment he knew they were both out, he shut the door and locked it, hearing his father groan while his mother began scolding him through the door. 

Turning to walk back to the living room, Bro heard his father, "You'll hear from our lawyer about this," call from the hallway. 

A small shrug was all that was offered, the blonde turn I back to the living room and pulling out his cracked phone.

 

**_They're gone, but don't  risk coming home yet. They'll probably be by again. Also, find a lawyer. Immediately. -Bro_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a comment below and I promise I will get back to you ^^))


	24. Night Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Guys I am so sorry updates are taking this long, but again. Its all being done on a tablet. Which is a lot harder than it sounds. Sorry if there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out!! And this chapter is mostly filler, cuteness and stuff to make you feely but also smile before we get back to the intense stuff))

"Relax Rufioh," Tavros assured with a roll of his eyes, his feet dragging a little as he walked with his bag at his side. The walk home from Gamzee's was a long one, but enjoyable. Stretching his legs while enjoying the scenery of Virginia was always nice, relaxing even. A four mile walk usually wouldn't be in the cards for the seventeen year old, seeing as his older brother Rufioh hated him walking anywhere because he didn't trust that Tavros could get home safely on his own and because Tavros did have access to his own car, but today seemed as good a day as any to get some exercise in.

Walking seemed to be the only thing that could honestly let Tavros drag in a truly deep breath and let the air sit heavily in his lungs. Anxiety would do that to you; in most situations that involved leaving a house that Tavros had adjusted to, his words began to crack and stumble, giving him gaps in his sentences when talking to strangers and causing fillers like 'uh' and 'um' to be heard. Actually, he was that way around friends, even. Really the only people he could talk to without messing up every sentence were Gam, Rufioh and his own dog, Tink. School had been a hassle on the grounds that he felt like crawling out of his own skin because of around so many people, and the prospect of a job was squashed by his inability to spend prolonged amounts of time away from home.

These feelings that he faced nearly constantly went unnoticed by most, people generally getting along with him just fine as he gave a forced smile. Tavros wasn't shy around strangers, by any means, just. . . cautious; the moment someone tried to touch his shoulder or give him a hug was a sign that he my need to leave at that moment, and the deep breath that was sucked out of him by social situations never really came back fully. Even being around Rufioh for too long, his own brother and friend, never allowed him to relax fully. Gamzee also wasn't an exception, but he knew Tavros's personal boundaries better than anyone else and respected them, making him the person that Tavros could spend the most time around without the feeling of suffocating.

So, a nice walk to wind down after spending time with his best friend was definitely welcome. It was still afternoon when he'd left the Makara household, and it was much to Gamzee's disdain. He had family visiting, and according to Gamzee, "Uncle Grant would get a kick out of you, motherfucker, even if his mind is all up and twisted. Dude's weird, but lax as shit when he's not all up on stage." Yet that invitation was not approved by either his father nor his mother, seeing as they viewed family time as something that was meant to be cherished and shared by members of that family alone, barring even honorary ones such as Tav. Tavros understood, of course, and both parents apologized for making him leave early while they went upstairs to set up the guest bedrooms.

His goodbye with Gamzee had been chaste, just a fit bump and a shared, honest smile with a promise to hang out again in a few days like it always was. Tavros remembered thinking for the first few minutes of his walk back home that Gamzee looked like he wanted to say something, the way his mouth opened and closed more than once while his brow furrowed. It was one of the moments that his face was clear of all paint, a look that Tavros preferred as opposed to the white and grey makeup that he wore up at the hospital. Without it he could see Gamzee's eyes crinkle when he laughed, or even the string thin scars that trailed across his face, barely noticeable against his skin. Three lines, caused by a run in with a mountain lion cub when he was little on a hiking trip, which his older brother Kurloz had found endlessly funny while he was having to clean them, from the stories that Tav had heard. So he watched Gamzee begin to say something, a gruff sound like he was clearing his throat coming out but not followed by any words. In the end he just waved to his friend before slinking back inside, and Tavros watched him go with a look of confusion.

Now he was walking down his own street, almost able to see his house around the bend while on the phone with his brother, "I'm nearly home. You don't need to- wait, uh, don't have to worry. I'm already here. Just. Have a nice time at work, okay? Lo-"

The screeching of skidding tires filled the air, and looking over his shoulder while turning Tavros gave a yell into the receiver, his phone falling to the ground as his body was shoved forward by the grill of a pickup truck.

 

-

 

A dry sob came from Tavros as he woke up, the lights stinging his eyes and his throat feeling like it was closed up. The sob was partially from pain, mostly in his legs and lower back, but also to help clear out all the mucus that had built up in his throat, making it damn near impossible for him to talk. 

Also, out of surprise. He'd just been hit by a car. Hard. It had connected, actually connected with his chest. The metal had bitten into his shirt and skin and carried him, while fear began to bubble up- What if he was dead? An attempt to open his eyes and feeling nearly blinded just from shifting the lids themselves assured him that he was not. He needed to find his phone, Rufioh was probably worried sick. Wow his screen was probably shattered too, that kinda sucked. God knows how long he'd been knocked out for. The light above him had to be the headlights, so it wasn't long enough for the stranger who'd hit him to leave, but. But shouldn't everything hurt more? His heart monitor jumped harshly as his nervous breathing sped up dramatically, the sound of beeping surprising him even further.

Beeping?

Between the sound of the beeping and the lingering fear that yeah, he'd totally died, his heart rate went high enough to call the nurses in from the station outside his door in the hallway. He could vaguely hear the sound of two of them talking, one ordering to "call Mr. Makara and grab Mr. Nitram from the cafeteria," while the other came in, immediately checking his vitals. 

"Mr. Nitram?" The voice was right by his bedside him, a female one that felt familiar but that he'd never heard before to his knowledge.

He opened his mouth to speak, but felt dry lips crack and begin to bleed, causing Tavros to make a small noise. He should try to ask for water, that sounded pretty good right then. Taking the noise as a good sign, the nurse asked, "Do you know where you are?"   
   
Tavros opened his mouth to reply, but the words sounded dried and cracked, "Uh-" Damn, words hurt as well, and felt like grating rocks on sand paper. But that was a good question. He'd gotten hit mere moments ago, he couldn't have moved much, could he? But he could sill hear the beeping, quicker now, and his dried out nose could smell rubbing alcohol and antiseptic. "Ambulance?" Wait, no, that was dumb, they said to get 'Mr. Nitram' from the cafeteria, they don't have those in ambulances, what was he think-

"You're at Sprite's Childrens Hospital, in Whitebull, Virginia. Do you know what day it is?" 

That eluded him just like everything else. Cracking open an eye and feeling it water from sudden exposure, he began to open his eyes a little and blink, the technique he used for waking up in the morning. Wow, his eyes were practically glued shut, how could that happen so quickly? Hm. They did say he was at the hospital, maybe he'd stayed asleep overnight. It would make sense as to why Rufioh was there.

The nurse pulled up his eyelid by his eyebrow and shined a light directly on him, and suddenly he was facing a green pick up with two bright headlights, and could feel the front crash into his chest. Pulling his head away from her grip, he pressed his palms to his eyes as he remembered feeling his left leg break in very vivid detail, the light causing his eyes to water further. How could he remember that? He passed out when it first got him, but that memory had to be further on. Right?

"No."

"It's August twenty seventh, does that sound about right?"

Tavros shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. They felt horribly dried out, and it was distracting, "That's uh-" Again, he shook his head, "Too far in the future." The movement brought attention to an unusual breeze on his head, and lifting both hand he felt the shaven skin, which felt as if there was a bit of peach fuzz growth, along with two long, raised and stitched lines. "What- How did I get here?" His voice cracked, reminding him exactly how wonderful a glass of water sounded right then.

The nurse gave a small noise before being cut off, the sound of something clattering being heard before Tavros heard feet falling and was suddenly surrounded by arms. 

Blinking repeatedly in an attempt to clear his eyes of exposure-forced tears, he caught a blur of red and black hair as he heard sniffling, and was Rufioh crying?

"Rufioh?" Tavros croaked out, managing to lift a hand and pat at his older brother's back. An odd tugging sensation forced him to glance over, bringing a gaze to the IV hooked in his hand.

"Hey buddy," the crackling in his older brother's voice was evident, along with a thick, teary tone, "good to see ya."

Wait. Rufioh didn't cry often. Maybe if there was a horribly sad movie, or when he was younger when their parents scolded him, but he wouldn't have cried over a day. Been relieved, yes, pointed out that he'd been worried, probably, but not tears. The nurse said it was the twenty seventh, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what day he'd been hit on."How long. . . ?" The words hung in the air, their meaning obvious as Tavros squirmed a little in Rufioh's grip. He was hugging tightly, and a lot of the pain in his ribs was making Tavros think that his ribcage in general had been injured as well.

"Two weeks."

"What?" Tavros asked, a dull stab in his hips stopping him from squirming anymore while a hand curled up a little to grip at his brother's shirt. He glanced over, but the nurse from before was gone, presumably to give the two of them some privacy. "How- but. But who hit me?"

"Drunk driver. I heard you start screaming before the call ended, and called the cops. They almost-" Rufioh cut the sentence off himself, just squeezing Tavros tighter as the boy himself filled in the picture. Now his eyes were watering from pain by Rufioh's death grip, but Tavros didn't have the heart to push him away. It was one of the few times that Tavros had seen his brother so genuinely upset.

"How close was I?" Tavros questioned awkwardly, turning his head down to rest his forehead against Rufioh's shoulder. Some of him wanted to cease then hug, feeling just a little invasive, but the emotional part of him gripped a bit tighter as they had a conversation without saying directly hat they both were talking about.

Until Rufioh broke that.

"You died twice." His voice was quiet, and pulling back from the hug Tavros could see that his older brother's eyes were welled and spilling over. Letting out a small sigh of relief as the pain on his torso ceased, he watched his guardian develop a pinched expression. "Tav, buddy, there's some bad news."

"Besides the lost two weeks. Or getting hit?" He didn't notice that his sentence broke, but looking at Rufioh's expression he nearly shuffled his feet out of anxiousness. Or, tried to. Frowning, he tried to lift his leg to shift it, and let out a surprised yelp of pain. The stinging felt as if it were from the very core and bone, all the way up to the small of his back. "What the-"

"Man, relax, that's what we kinda need to talk about," Rufioh tried to pacify, but was forced to stand as Tavros pushed at him seeing as he was sitting on the bed and pinning his blanket. Rufioh stood with his bottom lip being worried between his teeth as the younger of the two took the blankets off in a panic, eyes meeting the sight of his legs in casts an with metal bracing around them, along with some casting around his hips.

It was something that you'd see on a soap opera when they're trying to 'subtly' hint to the audience that the injury is serious. He could see the tips of his toes, and they looked slightly discolored at that. Looking up for an answer as to what all this was needed for, the bracing over the cast mostly, he saw Rufioh scratched at the back of his head, face pinching tighter.

"When you were hit. . . Your legs looked like they were filled with milk on your x-rays. They put a lot of metal in, to stabilize them, but. . . "

"But I may not walk again," Tavros finished, and it wasn't a question. It wasn't something that was actually supposed to happen. It was something you read in a magazine or watch it in a documentary. You never hear the words 'not walk again' and not feel even a little pity for the person they're talking to. But when it's you? It's harder to react. It filled his nerves with ice and salt, surprising and burning all over his body as the meaning really began to sink in. His brother nodded solemnly, and Tavros reached out to touch the cast on his left leg. It was solid, real. It was evidence. It was enough to make his eyes begin to water out of something other than air and pain, his hands going up to scrub at his face. His legs were broken. Mush.

"Tavros." The word made both Nitram's look towards the door, Tavros's eyes now tinted red and watery, catching sight of the person who'd spoken. If he were being honest, which he seldom wasn't, Tavros could admit that he'd never heard Gamzee use his full name. Or at least not in his memory. It was always only 'Tav' or 'Tavbro'. His hair was even more wild than usual, his face clean of makeup and his shirt on backwards. He lived about two minutes from the hospital, so when Tavros had woken up he'd been called in. Maybe he'd been napping in one of the staff sleep rooms that they have for doctors who need to sleep for a bit, who knows. Tavros didn't really even care, all he cared about was the look of shock on his friends face and the way it nearly made the ache in his bones not noticeable.

The smile Tavros gave was wobbly, the back of his hands running over his eyes in an attempt to stop himself from crying. "Hey," he said, waving a hand a little and hearing his wrist pop quietly.

Stepping in, Gamzee opened his mouth to speak before finally tearing his eyes away from Tavros and catching sight of Rufioh, causing him to bow his head a little before swallowing. "Hey best friend. They all up and gave me a ring when I was crashed in a breakroom sayin' you was awake and what not."

Silence filled up the room a bit, Tavros trying to find the correct words to say while Gamzee waited to hear what he could. For the first time in years, the two shared an awkward bout of silence, which the eldest noticed. It went on for nearly thirty seconds before Rufioh realized that that may actually be caused by his presence and the want of privacy by his brother and best friend. Rufioh looked between the two of them, raising an eyebrow before clearing his throat, "I dropped my tray in the hall on the way from the cafeteria when the nurse grabbed me, and I haven't eaten yet. I'll . . . . be right back." It was obviously a lie, but Gamzee's eyes remained on Tavros and vice versa anyways, neither bothering to point it out. By the time the door to the hallway shut, Rufioh on the other side of it and praying the atmosphere would feel less awkward by the time he got back, Gamzee shuffled a little closer.

"Is a hug out of the question?" He asked, and Tavros laughed a little despite the tears now pouring freely. They were like a leaky faucet, impossible to turn off completely once they started.

Lifting his arms and holding them open, he got the wind knocked out of him at how quickly he found them full of a smiling clown, his grip a lot more considerate than his brother's had been. Classic Gamzee. So, just to tease, Tavros snuffled to clear his nose as he smiled, hugging Gamzee back lightly as he jokingly asked, "Are you okay, Gam?"

"Sure brother, just never thought I'd be so happy to see a motherfucker with tears in his eyes." Tavros was squeezed softly once as Gamzee wormed his way closer, hiding his face in the horrid hospital gown Tavros found himself in, "I was gone last time you opened your eyes, and your doctors had me thinkin' for a while that I'd never get to see 'em again."

"I woke up? Before this?" Tavros asked, looking a little surprised as he patted his best friends back. Things must have been bad for a while, if these were he reactions to him waking up that he was being met with.

"About a week ago. Weren't makin' much sense, and you passed out pretty quick, but it was as good a sign as any."

"Sign?" Glancing down at his friend, he felt Gamzee tense a bit. Well that couldn't be good.

"They were assumin' you weren't gonna wake up at all, Tavbro."

"Oh." Wow.

That was a heavy thought.

"But you're awake friend, that's all that matters. That was the only problem that needed fixin'."

"You know that's not the only one. Problem, I mean." Tavros mumbled, tipping his head down to press his nose and mouth against the mess of black and rainbow hair right in front of him, Gamzee's face still hidden in his chest. The hand resting on Gamzee's back reached down, and Tavros hit his knuckles soundly against the cast covering his right leg, the hollow knocking noise ringing in the small room.

"It's the only one that matters," Gamzee promised, and Tavros gave a smile, sniffling a little to clear his nose.

"So. How long is it going to take to, learn how to use a wheelchair?" He asked against Gamzee's hair, and Gamzee waved a hand dismissively.

"Just relax for a sec, best friend. Don't even think about that kinda stuff right now." For a moment he was quiet before he made a noise and popped up, startling Tavros into wearing wide eyes,"I forgot!"

Tavros's brow furrowed a little as he tipped his head, "Forgot, what?"

"In a few months, you're gettin' another visitor. Well, two more but what the fuck ever." When Tavros frowned in question, Gamzee explained, "You got a Wish, a motherfuckin' miracle, and I sorta helped pick it. That robot band junk you like all up and agreed to visit. My uncle knows their producer and all that shit, bu-"

"Wait, Daft Punk?" The mohawked boy went a starry eyed, "You used my wish, to get Daft Punk?"

". . . . . . Surprise?" Gamzee managed, looking a little sheepish until he felt Tavros hug him tightly, squeezing once.

Outside the door, Rufioh heard Tavros laugh a bit before two voices began chattering, still leaning against the hallway door. Not hungry, he opted to wait it out, but maybe he'd have to go on some fifteen minute adventure so Tavros could ignore the heavy parts of his situation for a while.

All he needed was a good clown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or leave a comment below and I will definitely get back to you!))


	25. Doin' it Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anything is in second person that is entirely my fault and I apologize for my silly writing habits -Time (who wrote this entire chapter, woop woop)

Sollux was awoken by a punch in the arm from his ever so tactful roommate.

“KK, what the hell?” were the first words he muttered when he came to. Karkat motioned to the door of their apartment, which Sollux had not noticed was being knocked in little cautious (but loud) hits.  

“I swear, if it’s that Strider asshole this early in the morning, you’re moving out.”

Sollux flipped him a bird before he swung his legs out of bed and called out a tired ‘be there in a thecond’ to whomever was on the other side of the door. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and shuffled himself over to the entryway and opened it.

“Alright, what do you want thith time-”

Nobody was in the doorway. Well, that was odd. And also really fucking annoying, considering he had been awake until five in the morning last night working on coding and homework. He stepped out a little, looking about the empty doorway for an asshole in the midst of running away.

His vision was blocked by a pair of hands from behind him, which startled him so much that he jumped back into whoever it was covering his eyes.

“Guess who?” a voice chimed, giggling at his surprise and leaning back into his touch.

“…AA?”

Aradia uncovered his eyes and turned him around, a great big smile gracing her features. “I’m back! Surprise! Did you miss me?”

Sollux tackles her in a bear hug and spins her around, laughter rasping through his dry throat. “Holy shit. AA, you’re alive! KK, look who it ith!”

The sour expression on Karkat’s face as he walked over was softened as soon as he saw their old friend. “Aradia. Awesome. Someone I tolerate,” he leaned in on the wall, taking a sip of freshly brewed coffee. “How’s studying abroad going for you?”

“Oh, it’s amazing! Egypt is fascinating. Unlike anything you can get here,” she faltered a little bit. “Not that this place is bad or anything. It’s just not my type of education, you know? I’d rather work hands on and all that!” her face lit up a little. “I got to meet the Dr. Harley down there! She’s absolutely fantastic.”

Karkat simply nodded.

“Good, good. Now if you’ll excuse me, this coffee is shit and I’m going to go the fuck back to sleep.”

The two snickered as Karkat dragged his feet back to the bedroom. When he was gone, Sollux moved an arm’s length away from Aradia, taking her appearance in.

“I didn’t think you’d come back. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I thought I would stop by and visit my best friend,” she answered. She looked a little older than she did the last time he had seen her. She was a bit taller, with a fuller face (but the same eyes that crinkled when she was happy). It was wonderful to see her that way. Sollux gave her a crooked grin.

“Like hell you did. Betht friendth until the end. I thtill have the brathelet, you know.”

Her eyes widened to what Sollux thought was twice their normal size. “For real? Let me see!”

The two of them make their way to Sollux’s computer desk, which is covered in assorted papers, disks, flash drives, and even a couple broken keys. As he pilfered through various drawers and the basket next to his desk, Aradia sat in his chair and spun in circles.

“So, what have you been up to here in Texas?”

“Not much, actually. Thame old, thame old. John’th an athhole, Karkat’th thtill a whiny bitch, and we’re all kind of the thtreet crew of thith new band. Daft Punk, or thome shit like that.”

Aradia stopped spinning at once. “You can’t be serious. Daft Punk?”

“Yeah. You heard of them?”

“I saw them in the Youtube suggestions and loved them immediately! You work with them?!”

Sollux smirked, but didn’t say anything about the Youtube hack. Let Aradia have her fun, he thought mischievously. “Yeah, I work with them. John is friendth with one of them, and dragged uth into the fray with him. Tho now I help them with gaining publithity and shit. Or at leatht I did. They haven’t really athked for anything elthe yet. But they paid uth a metric fuck ton. Tho that wath pretty great.”

Aradia listened in stunned silence. Her friend Sollux Captor knew famous people. She wasn’t going to lie, she never thought this day would come! He was as introverted as it gets around here. The fact that he was able to do that was so very lucky. She grinned madly when he finished

“I wanna be a part of this.”

“Yeah, it’th pretty great and all- wait, what?” Sollux sputtered, nearly pushing everything he put into the back of the drawer to the front again.

“I wanna be a part of this street crew! C’mon, Sollux! You know I’d do an awesome job. Just let me help if they ask you for something again, please?” She pouted a little, giving you a hopeful face. “You said it yourself, you don’t even know if they’ll ask for your help again! So if they don’t, then it’s not your fault that I’m upset.”

“Oh no, don’t go pushing me into thith-”

“Please, Sollux?”

“Thtop pressuring me, you know how I feel when you thtart-”

Aradia flopped out of the chair and onto the floor next to him, grabbing his legs. “Please!”

He facepalmed. “Fine, but don’t get your hopeth up.”

She hopped up immediately, dancing around the room and uttering a thousand ‘thank you’s. Sollux laughed as she settled down next to him again.

“By the way,” Aradia chimed. “The bracelet has been on your wrist this entire time, you goofball.”

Sollux looked down to his wrist to see that the leather bracelet was indeed there. Somehow, he forgot that he never really took it off.

“I’m wearing mine on my ankle,” she laughed again, raising up her leg for him to see. Both of them collapsed into a pile of giggles.

 

-

 

It was a long trip, but they finally made it back.

Although it was only 7:00 when they finally parked outside of Jake’s place, the entire party was exhausted. Jake was so tired he couldn’t utter coherent sentences, but despite this, he was the most refreshed looking of all of them. Dave and Dirk sported matching dark circles underneath their respective shades. John could hardly keep his eyes open, and didn’t bother to fix his glasses as they were knocked askew upon exiting the car. They were all in need of some actual rest. Unfortunately, there was still shit to do.

“So, the plan is still for you chaps to stay here and for John to get his stuff, right?” Jake asked once they were all in his apartment. John groaned, flopping onto Jake’s couch.

“Can I do that later? I can’t stay awake.”

“Dude, you spent the last four hours of the trip sleeping. How many hours do you need?” Dave groused half-heartedly. John was already fast asleep before Dave was finished asking his question. He sighed, removing the sleeping boy’s glasses and setting them on the coffee table. “A metric fuckton. That’s the answer, apparently.”

Dirk shook his head a little. “We all need the sleep. Maybe we should call it a night? Compensate an early turn in by getting shit done at the butt crack of dawn?”

“I’m down with that,” Dave muttered, brushing a piece of John’s hair out of his face. “As long as I get coffee at some point tomorrow.”

Jake simply nodded. “I don’t see why not. We’re all rather tuckered out. It would be beneficial for all of us to turn in early.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then suddenly Dave muttered, “Oh, shit.”

The others sent him puzzled looks.

“I haven’t strifed yet this month.”

Jake was puzzled. Strife? Did he mean a fight? Why would that be a bad thing? He turned to Dirk, only to find the orange eyed Strider grinning.

“I already have. Bro and I had to settle a dispute. That’s where my best wrench went for the month.”

Dave visibly deflated. “But I haven’t met the quota,” he whined. “‘C’mon Dirk. Help a brother out, won’t you?”

“What the devil-fucking dickens are you two prattling on about?”

Dave settled down on the arm of the couch and cleared his throat. “Listen up, English, you’re about to get schooled. Strifing has been a part of our family since we were tykes. Bro thought it would be best if we learned how to defend ourselves early on. Instead of chores, all we had to do is meet our quota of one strife a month. I mean, we still had to clean and shit, but it wasn’t really something we minded doing, so he couldn’t use that as punishment. Anyway, we decided that even though we’re not really kids anymore, we still want to keep our skills honed. You never know when you’ll need ‘em. We usually use swords, but fists do just fine when you’re on the go.”  

“You and Egbert are more than welcome to watch, Jake,” Dirk added with a cross of his arms before turning to his brother. “So, same old rules?” he asked. “Whoever wins gets whatever they want from the loser?”

“Of course,” Dave affirmed, a smirk on his face. “Be prepared to give up your new gloves.”

Dirk actually threw his head back and laughed. “When I win, you’re driving me around for a week. Your ass is mine, Dave.”

“Swords?!” Jake whimpered, “What the bloody hell did I just get into?”

 

-

 

The next morning around 6:00 (John groaned profusely when he had been woken up), they were all on the roof of Jake’s apartment complex. The Striders stood on opposite sides, stretching and warming themselves up for the upcoming strife. This rooftop was very similar to the one they had strifed on as kids, only with an updated air conditioning unit and no crows. Both of them silently thanked the powers that be that the crows were absent. They were a bitch to try and fight around.

The dark haired boys sat out of harm’s way, both of them criss-cross applesauce (John snorted when Jake had used the term). Jake watched the Striders intently, as if he were taking mental notes. John just basked in the comfortable warmth of a Texas morning, still not quite awake despite his “metric fuck ton” of sleep. The two both anticipated and dreaded this match. What if one of them got hurt? Jake loved the idea of a good round of fisticuffs, and he trusted the Strider chaps, he really did. But what if they had absolutely no idea what they were doing? John, on the other hand, was concerned that they would be spotted on the roof by flying paparazzi and have this story blown way out of proportion. Either way, there was an air of uncertainty around the cousins.

“Alright,” Dirk started, looking over at John and Jake. “The rules are simple. No aiming to draw blood, injure, or kill. Bruises are game, though. To lose, the opposing fighter must tap the other one in one of three spots: the throat, the heart, or the base of the spine. If either one of us needs to call a time-out, tough shit. The winner gets whatever the hell they want from the loser, whether it be all the money in their pocket or a personal chauffeur for the day.” John listened, interested in how they did this. He couldn’t imagine an entire childhood of fighting your siblings for sport. They were crazy! He looked over at Jake, who nodded so much he looked like he would crack his neck. Dirk looked over at his brother.

“Clear, Dave?”

“Crystal.”

Once they had set down the rules, it wasn’t long before both brothers were ready to go. They stood mere inches apart, before turning on their heels and walking ten paces away from one another. Turning around again, they each gave a single nod.

And then they sprang into action. Dave started on the offensive, rushing towards Dirk and shooting his fist upward, toward his brother’s jaw. Dirk dodged quickly, slipping underneath and flash-stepping behind him. Immediately, Dirk switched his tactics by taking on the offensive himself, pushing Dave towards the air conditioning unit. The younger one tried to push himself away, but felt the metal on his back no more than two seconds later. He slipped away just before Dirk could tap him out.

So the cycle began. One of them would back the other one up somewhere, and then hastily escape. They outmatched themselves. Jake was absolutely transfixed on the way Dirk’s arms rippled every time he threw a punch into the air. John could hardly keep up, they were moving so fast. He caught glimpses of Dave’s red t-shirt every now and then, but otherwise he couldn’t see them as they flash-stepped about. He came to the conclusion that they were most definitely ninjas. At one point, Dirk did a flip over Dave’s head and almost caught him off guard. “Christ on a cracker, that’s impressive,” Jake whistled. The dark haired boy may not have seen it, but Dirk smirked. Dave rolled his eyes.

The strife didn’t last very long. Dave got a little bit heated and miscalculated, allowing Dirk the time to grab his wrist right before the fist connected with something and then touched Dave’s chest. The younger Strider cursed out loud, and Dirk laughed.

“I said it once and I’ll say it again, your ass is mine.”

Both Jake and John clapped when they were finally finished, absolutely amazed with what they just witnessed.

“Oh my god. That was crazy. You did this as kids?” John stood up, running to Dave and handing him a bottle of water. He accepted it gratefully, chugging it down and pouring a bit onto the back of his neck. Jake went ahead and handed Dirk a towel and a clap on the back before talking animately about what just went down.

“Did we blow your mind, Egbert?” Dave asked with a smirk after he caught his breath. He shifted a bit in his sweaty clothes and shuddered. “Ugh. My shirt is stuck to my back. Not to mention my pits are soaked. That’s so not sexy. I’m going to have to take a shower.”

John snorted. “Were you going for sexy the entire time?”

“Nah, but it’s a natural thing for a Strider. Sexy runs through our veins. That’s why we wear shades. If we don’t, people would be swooning left and right. Just one gaze will cause all the blood in your body to rush to your face, and then to your pants. Dirk’s is worse, though. His stare is downright sultry.”

“Really?” The blue eyed boy laughed. “I bet I could handle your stare. I’ve done it before, haven’t I?”

Dave stopped moving, turning to John again. “There’s a difference between a regular stare down and the ultimate Strider gaze, John. You’d collapse.”

“Yeah, right! Hit me with your best shot!”

The Strider chuckled, muttering a little ‘don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ before taking off his glasses and giving John the look.

Oh.

A bright blush crept onto his cheeks as Dave looked him straight in the eyes. It was…surreal, like everything he had ever wanted to see in somebody looking at him. John’s body tingled. Nope nope nope, this was a terrible idea and he was not strong enough to hold this gaze. The desire and downright _seduction_ in his stare made John feel a touch too warm all over. The asshole started biting his lip and John lost it.

“Uhm, nope, I’m done, you can stop…” he mumbled, trying to breath steady breaths and not let the blood rush to his pants like the Strider had described. Said Strider gripped his shoulder before he could get to far, and _moaned_ his name. John scrambled and bolted for the door, covering his face and muttering something about going to the bathroom. Dave laughed so hard he doubled over.

The other two people on the roof watched John's hasty exit, Jake with a confused expression and Dirk with a smug look.

“What was that all about?” Jake asked. Dirk proceeded to explain the Strider gaze as fluently as Dave had, which left Jake blushing a little. “Oh…”

Dirk wrapped his arms around Jake’s shoulders, waggling his eyebrows. “You wanna see it in action?”

Jake swallowed. “Oh lordy.”

 

-

 

It wasn’t until around 10:00 that morning that Dave actually went in pursuit of some coffee. He had to wear a hat to cover his now iconic platinum-white hair, but he was otherwise doing a pretty good job of keeping conspicuous. Nobody gave him the time of day in his sweats and converse. He ordered his drink and sat down at a table against the wall, talking to Dirk over the phone.

“So, somebody leaked our photos and names onto the internet, Make a Wish is asking for us, Cronus is being a douche about it and the sperm and egg donors are back. And the cherry on the fucking top is that we still don’t have a lawyer,”  Dave reiterated, taking a long sip of his drink. “We’re a mess. What are we going to do, man?”

“I don’t know…” Dirk sighed over the phone. Dave shook his head. Cronus was doing a number on both of them. But fuck, if this wasn’t the worst time for him to spring this on those two, Dave would eat his helmet, circuits and all.

“Shit. This blows. More than you on English’s exotic dick. Or perhaps it’s more of a top notch knob. Who the hell knows at this point? I dunno, he grew up on an island but his accent is british.  Enlighten me, Dirk. Which one is it? Or is it a combination of both? God damn it, I need answers!”

Dirk didn’t even have it in him to berate Dave for that. He sighed again, and Dave thought he heard the rustling motions of him collapsing on a couch. “I’ll call you back if I think of something. I need to take a nap or Jake’s gonna force me unconscious for my own good.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to you later.”

He barely hears his brother’s goodbye; he is no doubt already falling asleep. Dave ends the call there, running his free hand through his hair and cursing under his breath.

“…May I help you with something?”

Dave turned around, only to find a woman bending to meet his height in the seat, her face mere inches away from his. He jumped away, dropping his phone on the ground in the process.

“Fucking shit, lady.”

Said woman grinned at him, but her stare was blank as can be. Dave wasn’t quite sure, because of the red tinted glasses on her face, but he strongly assumed that she was blind. Oh shit, now he felt bad.

“You dropped your phone,” she stated simply, tilting her head at him. Dave leaned to pick it up, keeping his eyes on her. Bro didn’t raise him to be reckless around suspicious strangers. Although he tried to apply the southern hospitality thing to their upbringing as well, and Dave had already broken that rule by swearing at her. As soon as his phone was back on the table, he voiced the first inquiry on his mind.

“Wait,” Dave paused. “How did you know that I dropped my phone if you can’t see?”

Her response was an unexpected cackle, which caused Dave to jump again. “I’m blind, not deaf, idiot!” she exclaimed for the entire cafe to hear.

“Idiot. How endearing,” Dave muttered. “Great way to start an acquaintanceship, m’am.”  

She suddenly opted to sit across from him, setting her elbows on the table and tucking a lock of her ginger hair behind her ear. “I hear you are in need of…ehem…some help?” she lifted an eyebrow. What was she insinuating?  “Perhaps I can be of service?”

Dave lifted a blonde eyebrow right back at her. “I don’t know why I’m giving you the time…but I’m desperate. Shoot.” 

“Terezi Pyrope, attorney, esquire, justice extraordinaire.” She slipped a card in his direction. As he lifted up to observe it, he was greeted with a poorly drawn dragon in red crayon on a card covered in braille. 

How helpful.

“What makes you think my troubles are something of your caliber, spy-trope?”

“Pyrope,” she corrected, a grin tugging at her lips.

“Did I stutter?”

Another burst of laughter from Terezi. Well, at least she had a sense of humor.

“To answer your question, however, I only have one word for you. Instinct,” she asserted. “It may not be now, but you’ll need my assistance in the future. I am quite positive of it.”

…She couldn’t be serious.

“I am one hundered percent serious, sir.”

“I said that out loud didn’t I.”

Terezi smiled again. Something about it was very sinister…yet trustworthy at the same time. Dave had no idea what to think about her. Not that he had much of a choice, at this point. A shitstorm was a brewin’. They needed as much help as possible, and pronto. They needed a lawyer. And here one is, staring him right in the face.

“…Alright, I’ll bite. Consider this your interview. What makes you think that you’re perfect for the job?”

She answered without the slightest bit of hesitation.

“I work for less money than a regular lawyer, but I still get the job done. My mother is a lawyer, and taught me everything I know. I know everything a certified lawyer knows, but without the boring approach and disgusting brown briefcases that taste like shoes. I’ve worked on and have won cases for the last three years. I am very persuasive, and I do not give up until justice is served!”

Despite the part about how briefcases taste, that was a pretty good answer for Dave.

“Alright, you’ve got the job. How can I contact you?”

“Turn the card around.”

Dave obliges, and finds her phone number neatly printed on the back of the braille card. Terezi laughs at his exasperated huff, standing from her seat and offering her hand to Dave. He takes it and they firmly shake hands.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Cherry Koolaid.”

“It’s Dave, just for future reference.”

“Hmm,” she grinned, putting a finger on her chin as if she were pondering the name. “I think I like Mr. Cherry Koolaid better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop, I got to do two new character intros!  
> The Strider Gaze thing is a headcanon I came across on Tumblr (thanks for reblogging that, Ash! I just had to add it~)  
> Any questions? Comments? Concerns? Ask away here, or over at either Hammer's tumblr (burnieplease) or mine (cyan-shenanigans)!  
> Hope you enjoyed, until next time!  
> -Time


	26. Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I had access to a computer for two hours. I did this. I hope you enjoy. Now I must get off of the computer and this hurts me because typing is so much easier when there is actual keys and not a flat screen full of lies and typos. blbhebh. By the way I wanted to thank absolutely everyone who reads this, comments on it, has left kudos, or even so much as taken a peek. I just want to give you all smooches. Bless your faces <33 Ps check out all the amazing fanart that's been created at burnieplease.tumblr.com/tagged/buy_it_use_it_break_it_fix_it it's lovely, adorable, and kick ass <3))

"You have twenty minutes to find all of the crap that you have squirreled away in Jane's house that you want to bring back to San Antonio with you," Dave warned over the phone, the elevator chiming when it hit the thirteenth floor. 

"And what about all the crap that I have squirreled away at _your_ house?" John countered. The sound of shuffling being heard as the buck toothed beauty presumably moved about the guest room and Jane and Roxy's place, "Because some of that is irreplaceable."

 "Like me?" Dave asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and even over the phone he could  _see_ John roll his eyes with a smile while the blonde made his way to the receptionist desk for the floor. Today was the day that Dave was playing chaperone and driving John all the way back up to San Antonio, two days before college actually started. While staying in Jake's place and seeing how many times he could make John rush off in a blushing mess was fun, he knew it needed to end sometime. And 'sometime' was already ridiculously behind schedule by three hours because John was so slow at packing.

So, Dave decided to do things the fun way and give John as little time as possible to get all his shit together for them to go on the road again.

 "Nah, there's always Dirk," John said offhandedly, sounding like he was trying to fend off an errant laugh.

 "Ouch, that cuts deep," Dave hissed, putting a hand over his heart dramatically as he earned an amused glance from Kankri, who was glancing at him while flicking through papers on his desk, "Careful, my poor, fragile heart can't take such heartache."

"Oh really?" John asked amusedly. Dave just shook his head.

 "Nah, just means your still not allowed in my pants for an extra week. Congrats, you called off the rain and brought on a longer dry spell."

 This actually earned a small chuckle from Kankri as John let out a scandalized "Dave!", presumably out of horror and also the fact that Dave was probably  going to stay true to his word. "Not that I would even care about waiting longer, jeez, but I can hear Kankri laughing, do you really have to say that kind of stuff in public?!"

 "Well hey, if you're not happy with my actions, there's always _Diiiirk_." He dragged his brothers name out breathily and heard John sigh even deeper than before, before smirking just a touch, "Now I gotta go, Cronus needs an update seeing as we've been in Cali. Twenty minutes."

 "Fine, fine," John blew a small raspberry before giving a parting promise of, "See you soon."

 Both of them hung up in unison while Kankri rested his chin on his laced together fingers, looking fairly amused, "Do you really get such satisfaction from humiliating your significant other like that?"

 "Like you don't. Are you forgetting how I was able to hire body guards for free?" Dave challenged, and Kankri actually blushed a little before shrugging.

 "Good counter argument, I'm afraid I must digress. Last time I checked he was free of any engagements, so feel free to continue my job and humiliate him further."

Giving a salute with an enthusiastic, "Yes sir," Dave kick-stepped into the office before giving a two fingered wave to Cronus, who looked slightly annoyed.

 This caused his client to pause, lifting up his hands slightly in exasperation but without any outward signs of said emotion, "How the actual fuck could I have already messed up?" Dave questioned, and Cronus just shook his head.

 "When are you plannin' on heading up for Virginia?" Cronus asked, and Dave damn near groaned, "We have the founder of Make-A-Wish calling us daily and to make matters worse, one of our partners and musicians, Grant Highblute, turns out to know the kid too. You've got a lot riding on this. Wait, scratch that, you've got a lot riding on _me_ for this."

"Wait, Highblute? The guy who bites off chicken heads on stage and is one of the leaders of the Juggalos?" Dave asked, face scrunching up a bit, "How the fuck does he even know this kid? What kind of sadistic, terrifying, injured teenage bastard are you sending me to?"

 "One that has a lot of connections, so you and Dirk need to get your asses up to the colonies and make friends," Cronus said, pointing at Dave, "Otherwise Homework may be the last album you ever make, and the last one I ever publish."

 "Geez, make sure you hit home," Dave rolled his eyes before walking over and sitting down in one of the two plush chairs stationed in front of Cronus's desk, "But still. Speaking of albums, we've got about five songs that could go onto the next one."

 "Already? It's only been about four months since your last one debuted, you two need to slow down a little."

 ". . . You are the only producer in history that would tell your clients to 'slow down'."

 "That's because you and your brother work a little too hard once in a while. Take it slow, years between albums is normal. But if you really wanna hammer out a new one, then please, by all means, use all your extra time on it. Just don't burn yourself out and ruin making it entirely."

"That happens?"

 "More often than you'd think," Cronus sighed, sitting back in his seat, "There are a lotta one hit wonders out there that happen just from little parts of an album that never got finished."

 "Huh. The more you know I guess, but don't worry man, I don't think either Dirk nor I will be burning out anytime soon," Dave promised.

 "Good," Cronus said, putting his hands behind his head, "Now I've gotta talk to you. I had a little chat with one of my clients, and she's willing to share the contact information of her lawyer. Chick named Serket, strong willed and good at what she does. Hasn't lost a case in years, even if she's a little expensive.  Seems like just the thing you need."

 "Oh yeah, fuck, nearly forgot about that. I got a lawyer," Dave said, crossing a leg over his knee before leaning his elbows on it, "She's kind of batshit, sniffs a lot and is blind, and I met her in a coffee joint, but I think she's a good choice."

Cronus actually laughed at the assumed joke, mouth tugging into a smile. He was about to ask if Dave wanted the Serket contact info before looking at the blonde and seeing a still blank expression. Brow furrowing, he frowned, "Wait a sec, you're not actually serious are you?"

 "Why wouldn't I be serious?"

Cronus actually managed to sputter, shaking his head a little, "Did you hear your description? She's blind?!"

 "Hey, don't discriminate," Dave said, damn near frowning in response, "She seems chill."

 "'Chill' isn't gonna help you, a good lawyer is."

 "She seems good enough to me," Dave countered, "Plus she gave a really good argument. I don't really remember what it was, but she convinced me well enough."

 "You're going to hire a blind lawyer?"

 "No, _you_ are. Forgetting our contract already?" Dave said, and Cronus groaned in response while Dave smirked.

 "Not happening."

 "Totally happening," Dave countered, and Cronus glared.

 "Give me one reason."

 ". . . I'll go up to Virginia within the next week."

 The staring contest that ensued lasted for nearly two minutes, Dave's face still blank while Cronus glowered, crossing his arms across his chest. More than anything, he wanted Dave to make a decision that didn't seem horrible at the time, but it looked like Cronus wasn't about to get his way. God, it was like the kid was just trying to defy him. The only reason the silence was broken was a call from outside the office of, "For goodness sake Cronus, just let him hire who he wants, he is your client and you agreed to the terms of his contract willingly! You have thirty more seconds before I come in there and list off a few examples of how discourteousness is terrible for a client-producer relationship and will personally counsel the two of you and make sure that you're on even footing before either of you are allowed to leave that room. Understood?"

 Looking up at the door, Cronus went a little wide eyed in surprise at his boyfriend's unseen outburst, but Dave's mouth curled in a small smirk. "You're so lucky that Kankri can't keep that nose of his outta things," Cronus grumbled, rubbing his fingers over his forehead, "Be there within five days."

 "Free plane ticket?"

 "Fuck off."

 "A week it is."

 

 -

 

 "Are you getting close to, being done?" Tavros asked, smiling a little as he felt Gamzee pull his hair up a little more between two flattened hands.

 "Nearly, best friend, just be motherfuckin' patient. Shit's goopier than I though, gettin' all stuck in my fingers and whatnot." Again, his hands smoothed his hair upwards again, and Tavros actually chuckled a little.

 "I am a patient," He joked, and from behind him he heard Gamzee give a quiet laugh.

 "Then have some patience, patient," He responded, before giving a small noise, "Good. Finally fuckin' finished. Wanna see?"

 "Of course!" Tavros responded brightly, and in a moment a mirror was held in front of his face by a hair-gel covered hand. The haircut he'd been sporting for the past few weeks, even if it was unknown for a short while, was now spiked up into a mohawk a few inches tall, the base only being a few inches thick before tapering off as it went up. Tavros actually nearly snorted from laughter; he looked ridiculous. The haircut would make anyone else look intimidating, but with big eyes and a happy smile, he somehow made it look kind and nice just the same. It shouldn't have fit, but now it just looked oddly cute with his face. Not a good thing for a guy who was turning eighteen soon.

Gamzee was laughing too as he moved, going to sit right next to Tavros on his bed which was far larger than needed for just him. He was placed on the right side of it to reach his monitors easily, so Gamzee bunkered down on his left, wiggling the mirror,"Like it?"

 "Love it," Tavros assured, and Gamzee let the mirror drop to his own lap as Tavros reached a hand up to touch at his hair, "Does this mean I, uh, can't lean back?"

 "Nah brother, just us. Mess it up all you want, it's all chill," Gamzee promised, and Tavros was silent for a moment before holding a and out expectantly. Looking down at it, Gamzee raised an eyebrow before frowning, "Uhhh- What?"

"Gel," Tavros stated shortly, wiggling his fingers, and Gamzee complied with a look of confusion. Putting some in the palm of his own hand, Tavros rubbed it between his hands before reaching out, beginning to form different colors in Gamzee's hair into spikes.

 Rolling his eyes, Gamzee blew some hair out of his face with a large grin, feeling Tavros mess with his hair while his mohawked friend wore a bright smile. "Havin' fun?"

 "Loads," Tavros chuckled, spiking a faded emerald green piece into one huge spike off the side of his head, "You look like you got, vomited out of the eighties."

 "Hey now, no need to get motherfuckin' harsh," Gamzee joked, grabbing the gel back and putting some on his hands just to dot some on Tavros's nose in retaliation.

 This seemed to take the bedridden boy by surprise, his hands stilling just a little before he made eye contact with Gamzee. His eyes then crossed to look at the green gunk now residing on the tip of his nose, and still looking at it he brought his hand to away from the multicolored hair and to Gamzee's face, running sticky fingers across his nose and getting gel and face paint mixed.

 "Oh come on brother," Gamzee groaned, scrunching his nose up, "That's nasty."

 "You started it," Tavros pointed out with a small shrug, wiggling his now gross feeling nose as he continued to look at it. His own hands were still covered in the stuff, he couldn't get it off without making more of a mess. Then another problem with the substance arose when Gamzee acquired more gel and swiped it across Tavros's cheek. "Gam!" He argued, snatching the bottle back and put a huge pile on his hands by accidentally squeezing the bottle a bit too hard.

 Lifting his hands in surrender, Gamzee went wide eyed, beginning to slide off the bed slowly, "That's a lotta motherfuckin' gel best friend,  you need to relax."

 "I am," Tavros countered, rubbing his hands together to distribute the substance before reaching out, smushing them against Gamzee's cheeks.

 Tavros looked damn near delighted that he'd managed to catch Gamzee before he moved, but Gamzee just shook his head, "You're motherfuckin'  _in_ for it now."

Tavros actually snorted this time with laughter as he rubbed the hairgel around Gamzee's face with a stuck out tongue. Gamzee grabbed the bottle back from where it was discarded on Tavros's lap before turning it upside down and pouring it on Tavros's head, making sure to smear it across his forehead while Tavros doubled over in a futile attempt to hide himself while groaning out a laugh laced, "Eeeeeeewww!"

 Within a few minutes, the bottle of hair gel was empty and both of them had hair sticking every direction, their shirts and faces covered with goop and laughter spilling out easily as they pawed at each other half heartedly, fingers sticking to any skin they touched. Before long Tavros called truce, trying to clean up and finding it not as easy as he hoped.

 "This is such a, mess!" Tavros complained, giggling as he wiped his hands on Gamzee's shirt and streaked the black material with the color that he'd taken from Gamzee's face.

 "Shit feels like glue," Gamzee agreed, his fingers sticking together as he wiped his hands on Tavros's hospital gown. His makeup was horribly messed up, large patches revealing upainted skin while giant globs of colored hairgel stuck to his cheek and nose.

 "A little," Tavros agreed, his hand meeting Gamzee's cheek again and smiling when he found it held fast without him even trying.

 "Should I come back later?" A female voice asked, sounding highly amused while also smug. Both heads turned to look in the doorway, jarring Tavros's hand away from Gamzee's cheek, where a woman with long dirty blonde hair stood, wearing a smirk and sporting crossed arms as she leaned against the door.

"Uh," Tavros began, glancing at Gamzee who looked just as confused. Must have been a person that Gamzee hadn't met, and he knew practically everyone who worked in the hospital. It could have been a random visitor, but Tavros doubted it: She looked like she had purpose for why she was there.

 "That's not the greeting I was hoping for, but it'll do," She shrugged, letting herself into the room while looking between the two of them, "Did I interrupt hair care and boy gossip?" She teased.

 It was then that Tavros almost felt like laughing, because wow he hadn't even thought about their hair. It must have been sticking every direction, they probably looked terrible. "Who are you?" He asked, and the woman reached out her right hand.

 "Vriska Serket, personal trainer and physical therapist. I'm the one that's gonna help you get those legs back into working order."

Looking at her hand, he tried to wipe his own off to free it from the sticky substance before giving up. "I'd shake you're hand, but-"

"Do it. Water exists, I can wash it off," She said, wiggling her fingers. Tavros was hesitant, but reached out and shook her hand none the less, and looked a little confused when her smirk grew.

"Strong handshake," She pointed out, "Good. I want you to know that you're going to think I'm a bitch. I'm not, and who knows, we may even be friends outside of therapy, but in that room you're not getting a break. People think there's an easy way out of everything, something that's not gonna hurt at all and that they're not going to have to shed even one drop of sweat to get. You're not going to walk again unless  you put in sweat, tears, cusses and gritted teeth. There's no easy way out, there's no 'pain free' treatment. It's gonna suck, but if you stick with it a few years from now you'll be running like a champ while thanking me when you win your first marathon. Think you're willing to work for your legs?"

Tavros opened and closed his mouth once, looking at Gamzee almost hopelessly before looking back at Vriska.

She was older than them by more than a few years, looking to be in her mid to late twenties with a determined expression and blue eyeliner. Her left arm had some wrapping around the elbow, both hands on her waist and seemingly indifferent to the hair gel covering one of them and probably sticking to her shirt. She looked and sounded driven, and the only word that came to mind when Tavros looked at her was 'intimidating'. Feeling a hand come to meet his shoulder solidly, Gamzee gave a reassuring nod, and Tavros looked up to make eye contact with her.

 "When, um, can I start?" He asked, and her smirk turned into an honest smile as she relaxed her stance a little.

Nodding, she looked at the two boys with wild hair and dumbfounded expressions with a small chuckle, "Now that's what I like to hear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Whooo, finally Vriska comes into play! A person that constantly pushes Tavros to the limits while also trying to benefit him? Hmm. Sounds familiar. . . . hehe. (Parallels whoa) Comments, questions, concerns, fanart, song recommendations, headcannons, fun thoughts? Send them to me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or send them to Time, co-writer and co-creator of this fic, at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com . Thanks for reading, dears!!))


	27. Superheroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I AM SO SORRY. I was at Animinneapolis with Time, and we didn't have a computer to update on! Plus, cosplaying takes a lot out of you, I needed rest, good lord. Ps if you were there, shoot me a message on here or on Tumblr, I was talking to a lot of Homestucks and I may have accidentally met one of you! Which I wish I would have known, dang, I would love to talk to you guys :3 Anyways, here you go, and so sorry for the wait!))

EB: so, tomorrows the day that you head out?  
TG: yup  
TG: boss mans orders  
TG: all the way up to boring as fuck virginia  
EB: virginia? I really hope you plan on taking a plane this time. you'd be there so much faster!  
TG: yeah sure bro lets just go in a giant metal coffin that's being thrown from one place to another  
TG: im too damn fine to be killed by some idiot forgetting to fuel the plane or something  
TG: id rather trust a falcon to fly me around by my fucking pinky toe gripped in its iron talons than one of these things  
EB: its safer than driving is!  
EB: statistically, youd have more of a chance of being randomly hit by a car than of your plane crashing.  
TG: fuck this entire world is a death trap  
TG: my plane would probably crash into a school for bunnies  
TG: theyd all run out of the fire screeching  
TG: youd have to be made of stone not to feel bad about that man  
TG: touching stuff  
EB: you got that from family guy! now go get a plane ticket dork.  
TG: dork  
TG: you  
TG: are calling me  
TG: a dork  
TG: id say something in my defense but you place already has a mirror that you look into daily so I think you can see what im getting at  
EB: jake just told me that dirk already bought tickets.  
EB: you were just messing with me, weren't you?  
TG: wait what  
TG: he did what

\--turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 08:16--

EB: well bye then I guess. :(

\--turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 08:16--

TG: <3

\--turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 08:16--

EB: <3

-

 

"No, you can't fly drunk, getting high isn't gonna happen, and no, dying before you get on the plane is not an option." Dirk didn't even look up from the book that he was reading when Dave came into the living room, his mouth open to start asking questions with his phone still gripped at his side. The living room in question was thankfully their own, having left Jake's the day before. It was nice, being home, even if the place was relatively new. Dirk had of course taken some extra security precautions to keep their 'parents' from actually meeting them. AKA cameras. Lots of them, all the way down the hallway from the elevator up to their apartment's front door. It only took a few hours to set up, leaving Dirk with more free time to simply relax and read. 

Or, in theory. He'd been reading for a total of two minutes. The very reason Dirk had told Jake about their upcoming plane ride was because he knew Dave would hear it through the grape vine, meaning John, because the two of them were still talking constantly even though it had been only three days since John was dropped off in San Antonio. He just didn't think it'd be that quick to get back to Dave, seeing as he'd told Jake about ten minutes ago. 

Fucking gossips. 

Ever since he was younger, Dave had hated the very idea of flying. Being that high in the air wasn't fucking natural, thank you very much, and he didn't ever need to really fly anywhere until now. Before getting famous, both he and Dirk had been hardcore introverts, meaning no needed traveling. But now with all the driving that Cronus had them doing usually between live shows, and now this Make-A-Wish shit, it would have been much easier to simply get on a plane. 

But Dave wasn't going to let that happen without a fight. 

"I'll drive the entire way." 

"No, Dave." 

"I will give you a thousand bucks."

"We have a joint bank account, dumbass."

"Dirk, we are not getting on a plane." 

Looking up from his book and wearing an unamused expression, Dirk dogeared the page that he was on and closed the cover, "I am not going on a twenty three hour car trip just because you're being a bitch about a two and a half hour plane ride. Look, we can hop on, you can take a handful of sleeping pills, and if we die you wouldn't even know it. Now go pack your shit, our flight leaves in three hours. This isn't up for discussion." 

"I'm with Dirk on this one," Bro yelled from his own bedroom deep in their apartment, and Dave actually let out an extended groan.

"When are you not? Jesus Christ it's like God got lazy and just photocopied the same person a few years apart. You two always agree with each other."

"Keep that attitude up and I'll make sure Cal comes with you," Bro challenged, and Dirk smirked as Dave shuddered. That was not an idle threat, and everyone in the house knew it. Dave had realized exactly how creepy Cal was when he was roughly eight, and knowing this Bro would use that damn puppet against him whenever he happened to piss him off. Wouldn't eat his breakfast? Cal would damn well spoon feed it to him. Room so dirty that you couldn't see the floor? It's your lucky day, buddy, Cal's got a garbage bag at the fucking ready. Got a C on a homework assignment? Well, sorry bro, looks like Cal's gonna have to tutor you. 

Dave still wouldn't admit that Lil Cal was the reason he passed Geometry. Never. 

Those dead eyes would not be with him in Virginia. 

"I fucking hate this family," Dave mumbled, and Dirk nodded in agreement as he opened his book again. 

"Love you too pal." 

-

"What if they're horrible? What if they're great? I really wish, I could, um, pace or walk. Right now. That would help." Tavros was wringing his hands as Gamzee pushed his wheelchair up and down the hallway of the Trauma ward, which was mostly empty. His legs were out of their large metal bracing, but still heavily bandaged due to the bolts put in his knees and thighs. He could have his legs bent to get into his chair, but it took time and a lot of effort. Gamzee and Rufioh had been pushed out of the room when it had happened, and by the time they were allowed back in Vriska was telling Tavros how to help relax his breathing while the boy kept his face covered, his nose red and his bottom lip pinched in his teeth. 

She'd been helping, over the past week, to get him adjusted to simple things like wiggling his toes, or trying to shift his foot. She was right, before; she really wasn't giving him a break. Any time he dared uttered the words, "I don't think I, can," she would push him even farther, getting a smirk and giving a nod when he'd finally succeed one task. 

More tears had been shed over his legs than he cared to admit. It was a bit embarrassing. 

Rufioh had to go to work, unfortunately, so Gamzee was the one waiting with Tavros, having decided to take the day off from work just to focus on his friends Wish. Upon a request to his father, Gamzee made sure this was a bit more private and relaxing, without all the usual cameras or people that presided getting a Wish granted. It was nice, being able to go into the public area of the ward and relax instead of being confined to his room. To Tavros, that already was a big gift. 

They'd been told that morning that Daft Punk would be there by two, and just to do for him what he couldn't do for himself, Gamzee simulated pacing with rolling up and down the hallway that his room was in, pacing for them both almost nervously, "Brother you gotta get your motherfuckin' lax on, shit'll be fine." Not assured, but it was the hope none the less. 

"You don't know, that," Tavros sighed, resting his elbows on his knees before gritting his teeth, immediately taking the pressure off. They were still swollen from moving that morning, and it was actually frustrating that he couldn't even slouch like he wanted to. Instead he reclined in his seat, his arms falling to their designated resting stations off to his left and right. 

Gamzee was quiet for a minute before Tavros felt a hand touch his shoulder lightly. Letting his head flop back over the back of his chair, he looked up at Gamzee with a raised eyebrow, his friend looking to be upside down and the sight causing him to smile a little. "Hm?"

Quiet for a second, Gamzee shrugged, "Wanna fly, Tavbro?"

The question hang in the air, and Tavros looked confused for just a second before giving a cautious nod, his smile still in place. He wasn't really sure what Gamzee was talking about, but he trusted that crooked, grey painted smile with his life. So of course he would with the idea of flying. 

Hopefully those two trusts really didn't have to go hand in hand in this situation. 

Gamzee pulled him to the end of the hallway before turning the both of them around, cracking his knuckles. It was then that he began walking. Well, 'walking' is a weak word for it. He was wheeling them forward a bit faster than needed. and then it was jogging, and Tavros could feel how fast the air was hitting his face. Running was the next step, and then sprinting, and before long Gamzee hopped up to get his feet off the floor and hooked onto the bar across the bottom back of Tavros's wheelchair, both of them letting out a whoop as they shot down the hallway. They flew past the nurses station, past his room, and damn near into two figures, both bound in leather and having to jump back at the last second to avoid getting hit. 

Tavros looked up in surprise as Gamzee and he made eye contact, both wearing 'oh shit' expressions as Gamzee dropped his feet to the floor, dragging them and making them stumble to a stop with a loud screeching sound as he shoes dragged across the linoleum. He wheeled them both to turn around immediately, making eye contact with two screens, one of them giving a large green check mark as the other gave two exclamation points on a screens shaped like pointed glasses. 

"Shit," Both boys mumbled out in unison, and the checkmark flashed. 

"Holy hell," The golden robot said, crossing his arms over his chest as Tavros began to blush horribly bright. "You know for not using your legs, you managed to scare the shit out of us. Props, bro, it takes a lot to catch us off guard." 

"Sorry," Gamzee apologized, and Tavros agreed and repeated the statement, his fingers fiddling with the arms of his seat. Oh crap. He'd just nearly ran over his favorite band. Damn it. 

"You're Turntech," He said, almost sounding a little struck as he pointed at the gold robot, before his finger drifted over to point at the silver one, "And you're Di-Stri. Wow. Uh. I- uhm, we- just-" Clearing his throat and feeling Gamzee nudge him, Tavros sat a little taller, "Sorry about that, are you okay?" 

"Fine," A robotic voice responded, belonging to Di-Stri, "Don't worry about it. So you listen to Daft Punk too, huh?" Tavros actually snorted a little, which surprised both robots even further.

"I'm uh, actually kind of, the reason that you're, here," He admitted, and both boys got exclamation points on their masks. 

"Hold up," Turntech said, glancing down at a piece of paper that he was holding in a leather bound hand, "You're Tavros Nitram?"

The second Tavros nodded, feeling his hair flounce a little, Turntech began laughing as Di-Stri gained question marks on his mask, turning to look at his musical partner with unadulterated confusion. "Somethin' funny, friend?" Gamzee asked, and Turntech began nodding. 

"Just. Dude. You look so nice, we were expecting some pierced up crazed Juggalo waiting for us to pull out a bucket of blood like Highblute would. Our producer said you knew him, the terrifying dude who is kinda the king of face paint?" Glancing up at Gamzee, he waved a hand, "No offense, but we were expecting someone who looked a bit more like him."

"Well that crazy motherfucker's my uncle," Gamzee said, grinning crookedly, "Gamzee Makara, brothers, pleasure to make your acquaintance." 

"Makara?" The actual sound of 'pbbbt' managed to get through his voice recorder as Turntech laughed again, Tavros finding himself smiling in response, "Like founder of Make-A-Wish Makara? He's related to Highblute?" 

"Motherfuckin' birth brothers, friend," Gamzee nodded, and now all four of them were laughing because the more he thought about it, the more that Tavros saw how ridiculous the correlation was. Wow. A guy who helps out sick children and another who bites the heads off of chickens. What a good thing, having strong family ties. 

Turntech and Di-Stri managed to follow Gamzee and Tavros as they made their way to the public room that the patients used for socializing, which was empty at the time. For nearly an hour, they managed to just. . . Talk. Much to Gamzee's delight and not really to Tavros's noticing, the seventeen year old wasn't stumbling or pausing as he spoke at all, a constant smile on his face. He was talking to his favorite band. That alone was enough to pretty much make him feel like he was flying, and to leave his speech impediment in the dust. He talked about his favorite songs, they talked about how long it took to make them. They talked about musical inspirations, and he either agreed or argued good naturedly, he found out that they were from Texas, and they found out that he was going to college soon enough. 

"Where were you thinking?" Turntech asked, getting a question mark and watching as Tavros sighed. 

"Funnily enough, I did had a scholarship to a school in Texas, which is cool since you guys are from there, but I lost it." 

"You lost it?" Di-Stri parroted. 

"Physical therapy is going to take too long," Tavros said, giving a smile that was almost sad, "I won't be able to go to college next year. I'm losing my full ride." 

"You had a full ride?" Turntech asked, sounding surprised even through his voice recorder. 

"Arts major," He raised his hand guiltily, and Gamzee just shook his head a little. 

"Brother's killer with a guitar or a pencil," He said, and both musicians seemed to perk up. 

"Do you have any pictures of your art?" Di-Stri asked, and Tavros was about to say that he didn't, at least not on him, before Gamzee held up his phone with the instructions of 'drag to the left'.

Both robots put their helmets closely together, looking at the screen before them and once in a while getting exclamation points or check marks. "Holy shit," Turntech mumbled, and Tavros blushed horribly as he reached over, lightly punching Gamzee's arm as the painted one laughed. 

"See?" Gamzee pushed, and Di-Stri nodded as he looked up. 

"You're losing your scholarship, and wow dude, you've earned getting one." Each piece of work was ridiculously detailed, the shading seeming perfect from an unknown light source and even the landscape pictures doing more justice to nature than any real scene would. It was almost surreal. Gamzee obviously liked them, seeing as he had probably a good thirty pictures on his phone, and fuck if it wasn't impressive. The kid had to be some sort of prodigy, it was the only explanation for how someone that young could get that amazing of results with just a pencil and a piece of white paper, "And you play, too?" 

"Guitar, piano, singing," Tavros rambled, hiding his hands behind his face with a blush, "I like rapping, but I, uh, kinda suck at it."

"Wait you rap too?" Turntech heaved a large sigh as he shook his head, glancing at the sliver robot, "Wow, Di-Stri, I dare say we actually found a cool person. In Virginia of all places. Who'da thunk?"

Both Gamzee and Tavros laughed at that, both for different reasons, and it was then that Di-Stri paused. 

"How did you even end up here, Tav?" He questioned, and the laughter sort of tapered off as the situation switched from light to heavy, like a flip of a switch. They all knew what he was asking exactly, and it was the first time that Tavros really had to actually explain it to anyone. 

His voice was gone when he tried to use it, his explanation dying in his throat.

Giving a small shrug and a pained smile, he offered up, "I was walking home, and there was a drunk driver," and that seemed to be as good of an answer as any. It was then that the realization struck for the two boys who were visiting the hospital that this kid had lost a huge opportunity. All over getting hit by a drunk dude. Glancing down, Turntech seemed to really notice why Tavros was in his wheelchair, and his screen flashed a red x.

"I don't mean to pry or anything bro, but the bandaging looks a little heavy," Turntech commented, leaning forward and putting his forearms on his knees, "It'll come off soon, right?" 

"With therapy," Tavros nodded, "A lot of it. It hurts though." As if on cue, his foot twitched a little, causing him to wince, "I'm sorta wondering if it's worth it." The nervous chuckle that he supplied made Di-Stri shake his head. 

It was then that the reality really sunk in for the two performers. They'd flown up from Texas with the knowledge that they'd have to talk to some kid who wanted to meet them, but the fact that this kid had hopes, dreams, ambitions, talents, and a personality seemed to just be realized. He was a person. A person who life kind of fucked over majorly. Dave had been viewing this whole trip as a task to get finished, and he'd actually been enjoying himself. And he was sure that Dirk had been too. Tavros was a good kid. Gamzee was too, but with how much he swore, it was a wonder that he was allowed around kids, holy shit. Still. Even if he was a little timid, Tavros didn't deserve any of the shit that happened to him, not getting hit, not needing the chair, and sure as hell not losing his scholarship. Which is what made Di-Stri speak without even consulting his brother, "We'll make you a deal." 

"We will?" Turntech asked, and Tavros's brow furrowed in confusion while Gamzee's head tipped a little. 

"You sing?" Di-Stri asked, and when Tavros nodded, he continued, "If you can get your legs back in working order, meaning going through all the physical therapy, not missing any of it, I'd really want you to perform with us." 

"What?"

"What?" 

"Oh holy shit." 

While Turntech and Tavros spoke in unison, Gamzee at least supplied variation as his smile lit up, looking over at Tavros. Tavros, who was just blinking, seemed to be trying to process the words that were just passed. "What?" He croaked out again, and Turntech actually gave a small laugh. 

"That's actually a good idea," He admonished, patting his brother's back once, "So dude? You up for it? The moment you can walk to a phone, you can give us a call and we'll make some music. You sing, we play, I think that's a fair trade."

"You're serious?" Tavros breathed out, and both boys nodded in tandem. 

"It'll be on an album and everything," Di-Stri assured, and how quickly Tavros began nodding nearly made him laugh. 

Tavros actually gave a laugh, his eyes welling ever so slightly as the reality of what he was just offered struck. "Thank you! Oh my god, wow, thank you thank you thank you, I-" Covering his face, Tavros let out another laugh that sounded an awful lot like a sob and behind their masks, both Striders offered up a smile. Not that it showed, of course. From behind Tav, Gamzee mouthed 'Thanks' with two large thumbs up and a huge grin, and both robots flashed green check points in unison. 

To Dave, he never would have thought the sight of a crying teenager would have been worth a plane trip. Then again, he never thought they'd be pairing up with another musician, age be damned. 

It was a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments, questions, concerns? Wanna talk, got fanart, a cute headcannon (Comparable to my favorite character, Grant Highblute brought on by the ever fabulous HeresyIncarnate, or Lawyer!Terezi by the kick ass Pyrallspite)? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com, or message Time at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com, and we'll get back to you! ~))


	28. Something About Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((omg formating jegus help me. Sorry guys, got a bit of a time skip, otherwise I'll never finish this story. Also. Oh shit. I may have to change the rating for next chapter. Uh. Hell.The title that I would have wanted to use for this would be like it was from Friends and would be called "The One Where Everything Went Right For Once", so hey, get pumped guys!))

 

Dave was staring at his ceiling at two in the morning in early December, hearing his phone ping relentlessly next to him.

 

TT: Congratulations on surviving another year, Dave, it has been truly wonderful. Happy birthday.

 

GG: hi dave!!! I know we were just talking yesterday, but happy birthday, see you in the morning! rose, john and I will be there around noon :) oh! and karkat and sollux are coming too, they told us yesterday. this is gonna be such a fun weekend!!

 

CG: WELL SOLLUX POINTED AT THE CLOCK AND SHOWED ME THAT IT WAS PASSED MIDNIGHT, SO THAT AUTOMATICALLY MEANS IN HIS CODE-ADDLED BRAIN THAT IM SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU 'HEY NICE JOB GETTING BORN'. SO, ON THAT NOTE, IM FUCKING TIRED.  
CG: . . . . HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASSHOLE, SEE YOU IN WAY LESS HOURS THAN I WANT.

 

TA: look, iit2 the ultiimate 2ugar daddy who pay2 me to hack diifferent siite2. 2ee you 2oon dude, and happy biirthday.

 

TC: SuP bRoThEr  
TC: WeNt To gIvE Di-StRi An UpDaTe On tAvBrO aNd ThAt MoThErFuCkEr MeNtIoNeD iT bEiNg YoU'rE bIrThDaY aNd ShIt. HaPpY bIrThDaY, yOu MoThErFuCkInG MiRaClE :o)

 

AT: hEY,  
AT: sO i THOUGHT i SHOULD SAY,  
AT: hAPPY BIRTHDAY,, sINCE WE TALK ONCE A WEEK FOR A, uH, wOW, a LONG TIME NOW, i FEEL LIKE i CAN, sAY THAT AS A FRIEND,  
AT: tHANKS FOR, wELL, eVERYTHING,  
AT: pS,, i TOOK THREE STEPS ON, cRUTCHES TODAY,,  
AT: gET READY FOR A, nEW SONG }:)

 

AC: :33< dave! have the most purrfect birthday ever! say hi to everyone from me!

 

CT: D--> Nepeta has informed me of the current dates significance  
CT: D--> Happy birthday, dave, I wish you an e%citing day as both a former employee and respected friend

 

GC: TH1S 1S 4 T3RR1BL3 S1T3 YOU KNOW. H4RDLY GOOD FOR TH3 V1SU4LLY 1MP41R3D.  
GC: 4NYW4YS 4S YOUR L4WY3R I KNOW MOR3 4BOUT YOU TH4N 1 SHOULD, SO DO 4CC3PT MY B1RTHD4Y W1SH3S FROM TH3 P4RT OF M3 TH4T R3M3MB3R3D TH4T 4ND NOT TH3 P4RT TH4T COULD LOOK IT UP.  
GC: H4PPY B1RTHD4Y, MR. CH3RRY KOOL41D >:]

 

GT: Dave chum! Happy birthday mate, i hope you'll have a ripsnorting good time, and i'll see you later!

 

Even Roxy and Jane texted him, neither of them having bothered to make Chumhandles to keep in touch with Dirk and him seeing as they saw them damn near daily. Roxy said to "watch out for the alcohol, its pree good sutff. stuff", seeing as it was his twenty first birthday, and Jane informed him, "you'll have fresh baked cupcakes by the morning!". Cronus sent a text from both him and Kankri telling him happy birthday too, and fuck this all of this shouldn't be making him feel the way it did.

A year ago, Dave had woken up without a single new message. He'd gotten up, tugged on a pair of pants, made some toast and prepared for the performance at Deuces, for Roxy's birthday. Back when he didn't even know who she was.  Of course Dirk and Bro had wished him a happy birthday, but not with words. His turntables had been upgraded and his favorite take out was in the fridge when he'd woken up, and that was good enough. That's how it had always been.

Until now. Now all these people were talking to him, going out of their way to let him know that he came into mind while they were living their lives. He'd never had his many friends before this. Sure, it wasn't as many as some people had, but he didn't care. He knew all of these people. Personally. He'd been talking with Rose and Jade for nearly as long as he'd been talking to John. They were great friends, even offering advice when he'd let them or sighing when he wouldn't. Sollux and Karkat, while usually snippy and crabby, were good friends too. He'd talked to them before out of boredom, and out of seeing something that was just too fitting to them to not tell them about. He got along with Sollux better than Karkat, but the insults they threw we're (mostly) teasing and always well received.

It had been right around four months since Dave had met Gamzee and Tavros, and at least once a week since then he'd message and see how therapy was going, or just what they were up to. He'd tried teaching Tavros how to rap, but fuck was that a lost cause. His art was amazing, but his raps were just. . . . The only person who could help him at that point was Jesus. hopefully his singing was better, seeing as he seemed to be making good progress in the whole 'walking' thing, otherwise they were gonna be screwed.

Nepeta and Equius had been a great help when they were touring, and even now they remained good friends who kept in touch, Equius more with Dirk seeing as they liked more of he same things and Nepeta with Dave to test out her new cat puns. He hated to admit hat they were as amusing as they were.

He'd talked with Terezi a handful of times in person, always grabbing coffee or a bite to eat. She was working on their defense against his parents, so updates were always good, but the smile she supplied and the banter they exchanged hinted Dave into he fact that at some point, this batshit lady had become a friend too.

Jake was there from the beginning, always ready to head out on an adventure or manage their band. Jane and Roxy too, were just so familiar that it was like they'd never not been here. Cronus and Kankri were amusing, helpful, and trustworthy all at once, which just added cherries atop of the fucking sundae.

These were his friends.

Real, actual, living, breathing friends.

And then there was John.

He hadn't read John's message yet, and he wasn't going to. John had already told him "don't read it until i got to say hi in person!", but he still sent one anyways. Maybe it was just something to fuck with him, like 'hi' or a troll face or something, just to prank him. He wouldn't put it past the prankster.  
   
Everyone was coming up from surrounding areas for a party that Roxy was throwing. Nobody was telling Kankri or Karkat that the other was coming, and that impending train wreck was a gift all on its own seeing as they'd probably cause a scene while Cronus and Sollux would probably shrug off to the side. The mental image almost made Dave smile a bit. But most importantly, John was coming up.

He'd gotten to see him a total of four times since August, and now it was Christmas break and there was no way that John was leaving his side. The few times he had seen him just hadn't felt right for telling him that he did trust him, and the whole physical contact ban thing had been lifted and everything. So as far as John knew, he was still on probation. And he was fine with it, always ready with a smile or an ear to offer up regardless. Dave was changing that as soon as possible, but whatever.

Loking up at his ceiling, Dave swallowed thickly, rubbing at his unshaded eyes as another message came through, this one being from Roxy again telling him that she'd be there at nine to bring him to his party that he wouldn't end up reading until eight the next day.

And then, in the darkness of his room, Dave actually smiled, very uncooly, without a single care.

 

-

 

"You're sure about this?" Cronus asked again, looking at the disk on his desk before looking back up at Dirk, "Two albums in one year is damn near unheard of."

"They're eight months apart," Dirk pointed out, "And after this we've got a few more songs for the next album too. But with everything going on, I think I'm gonna have to call a time out after this. All Dave has been doing with his free time is working, and I have been too. It'll be a long time before we release anything after this, I think we both need to go on forced leave."

"And seeing as our online department is probably in a car its way to Houston right now, I'm guessing you're gonna wanna wait until after this weekend?" Cronus asked, before looking at the title of the CD and snorting.

Dirk smirked and nodded, "yeah, Monday's fine. Or at least a good enough day to start promoting it on, which you can get Sollux in on too. You can wait to release it for however long you want, but the actual product is there so my job is done."

"Hm- We may do a two month promo, build up anticipation a little bit before giving them something new. So 'Discovery'? You had to make it rainbow, didn't ya?" The cover was black with 'Daft Punk' written in silver and a backset of rainbow highlighting, looking professional to most but the true meaning known to a select few, Cronus included.

"Eh, seemed like a good birthday gift for Dave. A memoir to the fact that during this particular production, he found the door handle to the closet he was trapped in."

This caused Cronus to laugh again, shaking his head, "You boys will never cease to amaze me. Other artists try to make it somethin' meaningful and you two just make it some ironic mess."

"Well we try," Dirk said as his smirk grew, "So we'll see you and Kankri at Dueces, nine o'clock? Bring a copy of that, by the way, it'll drive Dave nuts."

Crossing his arms over his chest and grinning, he nodded as he reclined in his seat, "You got it, chief."

 

  
-

 

  
"JESUS PISS."

Both Bro and Dirk smirked into their breakfast as they heard a loud thud, quickly followed by the sound of twenty one motion activated smuppets turning on as a terrified scream came from Dave's room. Neither of the men looked up, bumping fists dead on without even trying as Bro chewed his eggs and Dirk took a drink of orange juice.

Their hands were still dropping by the time Dave stumbled out of his room, wide eyed with half of his hair flat against his head and the other half sticking straight up. Looking at his brothers while the two of them smirked, he gave a full body shudder with a disgusted expression and noise, shaking himself off a little. "What the fuck was that about?"

"We thought you should have breakfast with us," Bro said innocently, batting his eyelashes a little, "We just wanted to wake you up."

"First off, it's not even breakfast time, it's," snatching up one of the phones sitting on the counter, which turned out to be Bro's, "eleven thirty, and second off, filling a net full of your creepy sex toys and dropping them on me when I rolled over will never be a good way to wake me up. Ever. But confuckingrats on the new auto-turn on, good thing your customers don't have the same function otherwise they wouldn't need your wonderful product."

"Wait, what time is it?" Dirk asked mockingly, checking a watch that he wasn't wearing before lifting both of his eyebrows as high as his skin would let him, "Oh, the time half an hour before a fuckton of your friends show up? Is that it?"

Brow furrowing as he frowned and looked back down at the phone, Dave huffed out a "Son of a bitch," before throwing the phone at Bro and running down the hallway, towards the shower. In the distance, the sound of mass vibration continued while the older Striders could only laugh, eating their late breakfast with proud expressions.

By the time Bro was putting their dishes in the sink, Dave was already walking back into the living room, dressed in fresh clothes (A long sleeve red and white shirt with a broken record on it and black jeans) and looking as if he were about to rip out two chunks of well styled hair. "I just spent four and a half minutes looking for the 'off' button on one of those. How do you turn those things off? I had to get closer than I wanted to them to look and there is nothing. It's the worlds most scarring puzzle, made to fuck you over and just fuck you period."

The front door was knocked on as Bro opened his mouth to speak, and Dave gave an 'I fucking give up' shrug before making his way past the living room, going to the door without even thinking about checking the peep hole. He barely got the thing open before he was being picked up off the ground, a face buried in his chest as his arms scrambled for purchase and finding it on the shoulders of his captor, who had a solid vice around his waist. There was the sound of girls giggling, definitely Rose and Jade, Karkat's sarcastic, familiar voice saying, "Huh, if I didn't know any better I'd say that's kinda gay," and the sound of Sollux snorting.

By the time he kicked his feet once and was put down on the ground, Dave pulled back to see a bright eyed dork, the smile on his face practically lighting up the room and wow Karkat was right, that was kinda gay. "Happy birthday!" John greeted happily, pulling Dave into a hug that he could actually reciprocate.

He managed to look at his other friends over John's shoulder, raising an eyebrow before Rose just smirked and Jade answered with a happy shrug. His arms wrapped around John easily as he rested his chin on his shoulder, feeling his friends grip on him tighten a little before John rested his forehead against the crook of Dave's neck.

"Good to see you too man," He replied cooly, John being the only one who could feel how tightly he was hugging him back. John smiled against his shirt before giving a small squeeze and letting go, both boys getting surprised when his spot was immediately filled by Jade who damn near knocked Dave over as she threw her arms around his neck.

"Happy birthday!" She squealed happily, and Dave actually smiled smally as he gave her a hug back. She was having to push on her tiptoes to reach hugging him, and by the time she fell back to her feet it hadn't been all that long, but it was nice none the less.

Next was Rose, both of them staring at each other and Rose showing her uncanny ability to look him dead in the eye even through his shades. The contest lasted to a total of ten seconds before Rose gave a smile, letting her usual smirk rest a little, and giving Dave an almost familial hug, to which Dave responded as if she were a sister and hugged her snuggly. She gave the same greeting of, "Happy birthday," patting his back with a soft smile  that he accidentally reciprocated.

"I'm not doing the hug thing," Karkat said, walking past Dave after Rose had let go, "Happy birthday," and with a determined frown he patted Dave's shoulder twice, "And that's all the contact I need from you for the rest of my entire existence both on and off this planet."

"Oh no, you've hurt my feelings," Dave responded sarcastically, bumping fists with Sollux and leading the brigade into the house. The moment they walked into the living room and saw Dirk, more greetings and hugs were thrown out, and introductions were made for Sollux and Karkat.

"So you're the online department, huh?" Dirk questioned, leaning back against the sofa while Jade popped in a videogame on the 360 and everyone else sat down.

"So you're the silver robot?" Sollux countered, taking a seat next to Karkat and smiling.

"The better robot," He corrected easily, and Dave flipped him off casually as he plopped into the space directly next to John and he armrest.  
   
"Everyone knows that my helmet is better. Along with my personality. And face." Dave tipped his open hand back and forth, "But don't worry, I can see where you went wrong there."  
   
"What did you say about our face?" Bro asked, popping his head out of the kitchen and nearly scaring half the room to death as Dirk has to hold back a laugh. Shit. Neither Dirk nor Dave had even mentioned Bro being there, and he'd given no hint judging by the utter shock on everyone's faces.The expression that Bro wore was a ridiculous pout, the shades just making it look even more stupid as he continued to speak, "It's the freckles, isn't it? I always knew they weren't my best feature, that's why I got rid of them, but Dirk here is just ruining it for the both of us."  
   
"What the actual fuck," Karkat asked, a little wide eyed as he looked between Dirk and Bro. They really did look like twins, besides the mentioned freckles, and even to Dave it was kind of amusing watching everyone get more and more confused.  
   
"But really, Dave being more attractive? Look at this nose, we totally have a better jawline, we actually know how to style our hair, even our shades are better. This isn't even an argument. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go turn off a bunch of sex dolls that are in David's room, it's getting downright shameful." Shaking his head as all eyes turned to Dave, Bro disappeared around the hallway as Dirk hid his mouth behind his hand., his smile wide as Dave's face went blank.

"That is so not what it sounds like," Dave began to defend, lifting his hands, "That's our older Bro, and he and Dirk-"  
   
"Dave, stop, we all know about your wild, sex crazed side," Rose sighed sadly, tisking her tongue, "What a shame, poor John is going to have to develop into this risqué lifestyle. It makes me worry for both of your well being." As she spoke, a background buzzing sound that none of them had noticed before final stopped, and John actually snorted before Dave hit his arm.

"They put them in my room. Come on, John, buddy, you've gotta back me up on this, I've told you before how these puppets are fucking nightmare inducing. There's no way I would willingly put them in my room."   
   
At this point John was laughing behind his hands as Jade sat back to look between them all, giggling again. "Sorry," He managed to get out in a straight tone, "The pain in my arm is messing with my head, I don't remember hearing anything about sex puppets."

 "Wow, 'Turntech the Kink Mathter'," Sollux pondered, his hands lifting as if to form an imaginary banner, "How big of a hit do you think that would be?"  
   
"Write an article and call it 'Input Leads to Output'," Karkat suggested, and this time everyone laughed while Dave looked completely unamused.  
   
These were his friends, and the thought caused him to sigh as he slyly slid his hands into John's, the darkhaired boy stopping the laughter he was vocalizing and looking down at their hands before looking up at Dave. His expression was questioning, and Dave didn't even bother looking over as he squeezed John's hand softly, lacing their fingers through one another's as his mouth tugged into a crooked grin.

   
These were his friends.  
   
These were his choices.  
   
God he was so fucked.   
   
"Guys, leave him alone, stop giving him a _hard_ time," Jade said, getting more laughs as she held up two controllers, "Now we have a long time until our get together later, so who's butt am I gonna kick in Call of Duty?"

"Make it Left 4 Dead and I'll take you up on that offer," Dirk said, reaching for a controller and damn it if Dave didn't want to smile again.

 

-

 

Looking up at the flashing sign, Dave shook his head a little while Roxy clapped together the hands that she'd just been using to cover Dave's shades, her expression delighted. "Surprise!" She damn near shouted, bouncing a little, "According to Dirky, having your party here but not renting it out was the perfect amount of 'irony'." She used air quotations as she rolled her eyes, her black lips curling upwards happily, "Now you've got a full club!"

"As much as I hate saying this about Dirk, he was fucking right, that is perfect." He wrapped his arm around Roxy's shoulders as he looked up at the building that he hadn't been into in a year, while she wrapped her arm around his waist and gave him a sideways hug. back when they were first performing there, he never would have thought that it would lead to the life he had now. He owed this stupid joint more than he'd care to admit, and hugging Roxy to his side, he nodded, "It's a great plan, thanks Rox."

She looked up at him as he continued to stare at the flashing, bright red sign reading "Deuces" for about five seconds before she grabbed his hand and began tugging him to the front door, past the line of people waiting to get in, "Weeell, come on! Your whole posse is inside waiting to have a super secret famous person birthday right in the middle of a crowded club. More irony, I think I don't know, it was Dirk's idea." 

Allowing himself to be pulled past the bouncer, who Roxy gave an extremely over dramatic wink to, Dave went from the sounds of chatter and city life outside of the club to the sound of heavy bass and everyone talking at once in a mere instant. The lighting was dark, and they had rearranged the tables on the very outer edges of the dance floor since he'd last been in, but it was reminiscent of the crowd that he'd played for.

Just roughly four times the size.

He was led to a corner booth, where he was reunited with the friends that had left him half an hour earlier and also met with the sight of  Jake, who was next to Dirk (how surprising), Jane, who was chatting with Jade rather happily, and an absence of Kankri and Cronus.

Ah, yes, he hadn't missed the explosion yet. This was already a great party.

Sliding into the booth and finding himself right next to John, he relaxed a little bit as Roxy offered to go get drink orders, to which everyone, bar Jane and Roxy, got some form of alcohol. Jades was some sort of fruity cocktail, dubbed 'Jungle Juice', Dirk getting Sangria and Jake ordering straight tequila with an excited smile and a raised eyebrow from his boyfriend. Rose got something that apparently looked pitch black, named the 'Grim Dark', Karkat and Sollux asking for beer, and John getting something called 'Kinky', to which he quickly replied, "Because it tastes like candy, oh my god guys, stop!". Dave decided that since it was legal now, he'd try something that sounded interesting, so of course ordered a drink called 'The Four Horsemen'.

"Dave, honey, only one of these, a'ight? Shit'll fuck you up," Roxy said, winking again before heading off to the bar.   
   
Even over the loud thumping music, and still not being able to hear each other that well, everyone could hear Roxy's squeal of "Cronus!" all the way from the bar. Ah. So finally the rest of the group was joining them.

Dave supposed they were all lucky that Cronus was so tall. It was easy to spot him as he forged his way through the crowd, and the moment he caught sight of the table, he gave a friendly smile before lifting a hand to wave, said hand already being occupied with the hand of Kankri, who was also wearing a relaxed smile.

That is, until he caught sight of Karkat.

Oh god. That was a fucking mess waiting to happen.

Karkat had been on the end cap of the seating, seeing as he and Sollux had been the last to grab a seat, and damn near barreled out of the booth at his brother.

Dave had a split second to wonder if they'd fucked up and Karkat was actually going to hurt him or something when Kankri gave a surprised noise and they all noticed that instead of punching, tackling, hitting, biting, scratching, or otherwise maiming his sibling, Karkat was crushing him.

In a hug.

"Awwwww!" Jade said, and Sollux still looked incredibly confused, but now Cronus did too.

"You're are such a dick. Seriously. You are the cock of the walk in a the sense that you are the only one who is able to be such a chode, I hate you so much," Karkat said, and it was funny to everyone that even if Karkat's face was hidden, you could hear that he sounded both happy and pissed. Kankri was about half an inch off the ground, his expression still surprised but also almost fond as he patted his brother's back.

"I can't believe you still swear as much as you did when you were ten and figured out that it elicited as less than positive reaction from our mother," Kankri chuckled, "Which speaking of, we are in the presence of good friends and to some, complete strangers, meaning you really should watch your tone and what type of awful language you're using. Not having considerations for the people around you can-"

"Strangers," Karkat repeated, letting Kankri go and turning to look up at Cronus, "Right. Who the fuck are you?"

"Karkat!" Kankri snapped, and it was then that Roxy came back with the drinks and yup, this was gonna be a good show. John sipped at his drink with a bright smile, Jade and Rose both just looked amused, Sollux was lost, and all four of the older kids were how having to hide their smiles, some behind their drinks and Roxy not hiding hers at all as she leaned against the booth.

"Cronus Ampora," Cronus introduced, letting go of Kankri's hand to offer it in a handshake to Karkat, "I'm thinkin' it's fair to assume that you're Kankri's little brother."

Looking at Cronus's hand before looking back at Kankri, Karkat actually looked confused, "Seriously?"

"Well now what's that supposed to mean?" Cronus asked, raising an eyebrow and frowning, and Kankri blushed a little.

"Your boss?" Karkat continued, "You're fucking your boss?! I thought you gave up on fawning over him like a school boy with a hard on for his math teacher last year."

"Karkat Vantas!" Kankri snapped out, covering his face with his hands as Cronus had to bite back a laugh, "That is en-"

"You go on about this asshole ever since you got hired about how annoying he was and how he acted like some 'sexual deviant' with all these fucking nicknames and shit, and make me hate him before I even meet him, and now you're holding hands with him and are probably expecting me to be all happy with him. Should I give him a hug, call him brother, bathe him in the water of the womb so I consider him less of an absolute fuck? Jesus Christ this is incredible, I should make you a tee shirt that says 'World's Biggest Hypocrite', written out in the tears that your past self would be sheading if you back then could see you now. And you," Karkat turned to look up at Cronus, who went a little wide eyed, "Seeing as you guys are a thing I'm forced to give you a chance that I don't want to, so with that thought in your thick skull I swear to god if you so much as make him frown I will cut off your head and use your skull as a fucking athletic cup while I'm disposing of your miserable corpse, before dancing an Irish jig on your grave. Do I make myself clear?"

"Uh-" Cronus started.

"Good." Karkat said, turning to the table, "Now give me my beer, I need a drink."

Never before had Dave had such an urge to clap in congratulations of being able to paint such a perfect mental picture, but he was distracted as the crowd cheered and an all too familiar sound came on, a song from their newest album.

The one they hadn't released yet.

"What the fuck?" He questioned, but was damn near shoved out of the booth by John, Rose and Jade, all three of whom were wearing large smiles.

 "Come on!" John said, and Dave gave Dirk a questioning look before Dirk pointed at Cronus, who gave a smirk.

"Sorry buddy, couldn't help myself. Had to test the response on it before I could release the full album."

"But-" Dave managed to catch himself as he was actually pushed out by John, who quickly grabbed his hand and bright him to the dance floor. The song, one that they had made to sate Cronus who apparently had a client who wanted to work with them but they didn't want to work with her, was called High Life, the client in question by the name of Meenah Peixes and only her voice used, the snippet taken from an older song of hers.

" _Burnin' up! Oh, burnin' up! Oh!"_ It was catchy, that was for sure, and the dance floor was filling in with more people than Dave really wanted to be around. Reaching back to the table and downing his shot, he felt his throat fill with fire and his eyes well a little out of surprise before he shook his head, sticking out his tongue a little as John pulled him along with a laugh.

Dirk sat back with Jake as all four kids disappeared into the crowd, his arm going over the back of the seat as Karkat talked with Kankri and Cronus sat down, ending up next to Sollux and giving him a props for managing to somehow date Karkat and getting back, "I've met Kankri bro, thrutht me, you detherve ath much propth ath I do." Roxy lid to sit next to Jane, who gave a smile that damn near shone at the fact that Roxy was drinking water from a martini glass, and everything was nice.

It was comfortable.

Dirk looked around and felt relaxed, even in a crowded place filled with absolute strangers, because he was surrounded by people he considered friends.

It was all a lot different than a year ago, but better.

Jake let out a surprised noise as he was suddenly kissed, Dirk pulling back and taking a drink as if he hadn't done anything while Jake just blinked before smiling a little. "Don't get me wrong, Strider, I'm not complaining in the slightest, but what was that for?"

"It was a thank you," Dirk said, "For giving us a chance."

Jake just smiled almost stupidly as he leaned up to kiss Dirk's cheek, and even in the overfilled club Dirk felt that the only thing that mattered were the lips on his cheek.

 

-

 

The music slowed about three songs later, and Dave was already sweating simply from sheer proximity of so many people in such a small space and from the movement of dancing, which he was not horrible at.

But that wasn't surprising. He was a Strider. Of course he'd be great at it.

However, this was the first even slightly slow song that had come into play, and it was one that made him feel both excited and annoyed at the same time.

About a month ago, when he decided that he really did fully trust John, when he felt like he was over what happened, he spent about two days trying to figure out how to tell John that he had the green light to do whatever the fuck he wanted. This was harder than he thought it would be, however, and eventually Dirk suggested sarcastically, "How about through interpretative song and dance?"

He didn't think Dave would take any of it seriously, but through song seemed like a semi-decent idea.

So before their newest album was released, Dave was going to play that song for John, and all would be well and dandy.

So of course Dirk had to play the entire album. He couldn't wait one day for Dave to show John one song. Of course he couldn't, because then his I'm-A-Dick-O-Meter would run out and where would that leave him? Baking alongside Jane and feeding the homeless and giving the shirt off of his back to a sad puppy or something.

He stopped moving for a moment, and of course John noticed, seeing as they were dancing together. "Something wrong?" He asked, smile still wide but his hair was now basically framing his face due to being heavy with sweat and even sweaty Dave couldn't help but notice that fuck he was still cute. Maybe that was the fact that he was slightly head over heels for this kid, maybe to anyone else John would look like some sweaty mess, but somehow Dave doubted it.

"The song," Dave pointed out, his breathing just a touch off kilter as he ran a hand through his hair in a sad attempt to get it to look the same as it had when it was completely dry.

"Yeah?" John prompted, letting out a small noise as he was nudged into Dave's arms due to getting shoved by someone else on the dancefloor. Dave caught him easily, wrapping his arms around him.

"Listen to it."

"Why?"

"I-" Sighing a little, Dave kept John close, "I don't need anymore time," Dave said, and John looked confused for a total of three seconds before Dave prompted, ". . . .The ban is over? Contact allowed?"

John stilled as well, "Really?"

"Listen for a sec, would you?" Dave asked, ducking his head down to rest his forehead on John's shoulder and John straightened up a bit, brow furrowed as the two of them swayed to the music.

 

_It might not be the right time_  
 _I might not be the right one_  
 _But there's something about us I want to say_  
 _Cause there's something between us anyway_

 

John started at that, lifting his head to look at Dave, who was still hidden against his shoulder. The  voice singing was definitely Dave's, no matter how altered it was, and the words playing were beginning to make John think that this song was written for someone in particular. Part of him was hoping that Dave would move, because at this point he could probably hear how fast John's heart was beating and it was borderline embarrassing, but Dave only seemed to grip tighter, still not looking up.

  
 _I might not be the right one_  
 _It might not be the right time_  
 _But there's something about us I've got to do_  
 _Some kind of secret I will share with you_

 

"Dave?" He said quietly, watching as more people began to sway to the music, but no response was given as the lyrics started back up again almost immediately.

 

  
_I need you more than anything in my life_  
 _I want you more than anything in my life_  
 _I'll miss you more than anyone in my life_  
 _I love you more than anyone in my life_

 

Dave tensed a little as John slid out of his grip, his entire body going ridged as he still refused to look up. Fuck his pride. Fuck it completely because he knew he wouldn't be able to say shit like that in his own voice, an unaltered one, to John's face, because people like him don't do that and it didn't matter how badly he wanted to say it he knew he couldn't because that was just it. He was too proud. And John had let go of him and that could _not_ be a good sign.

His head was still hung just a little, still at the same position that it was when he had originally put it against John's shoulder, and suddenly he found John ducking his own head to meet his gaze and suddenly he was pushing upwards and alright, those were definitely lips against his own.

The instrumentals continued, and Dave could not get less of a shit. He'd worked nearly five hours to get them the way that he wanted, and he could not care one iota because he had John Egbert kissing him and fuck if that wasn't the best thing that had happened this far in his life. Record deal? Nah. Going platinum? Not even close. Nothing could possibly get close to a closed mouthed, innocent, sweat covered, in the middle of the dancefloor of a club kiss.

He tasted like skittles and vodka, which was probably the two sips of Kinky he'd managed to get in before he'd dragged Dave off, and Dave was guessing he probably tasted like whatever unholy concoction those Four Horsemen were, and yet neither of them seemed to care. His hands tugged John's head closer, and John wrapped him up in what could only be described as a hug to keep him close.

Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or Time, my writing partner, at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com, and we'll get back to you!))


	29. Veridis Quo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry, it's kinda short! But we'll be updating again sooner than usual, so have no fear!

It was a fairly quiet day in the Strider household. After Dave’s birthday, the rest of the week was pretty easy going. It was still winter break, so John opted to camp out at Jake's until he had to go back. He and Dave planned to go out on an actual date that afternoon. Having that option was downright fantastic, both of them agreed. Dirk and Jake were planning to get together as well. But besides going on dates and enjoying the rest period, all anybody did at this point was wait. Wait for Cronus to give them some new idiotic tour to go on, wait for Tavros to complete therapy so they can get started on a song, even wait for news on their parents (as terrible as that sounded to all of them). It was kind of boring, to be honest.  

“Cherry Koolaid? Come in Mister Cherry Koolaid!”

Bro was out on a fabric run for some recent smuppet commissions, and Dirk hadn’t come back with lunch yet. Mr. Cherry Koolaid, more commonly known as Dave, was the only one home. And he was most definitely not expecting the voice of his lawyer to resonate through his home.

“What up, Terezi,” Dave called from the kitchen, a bottle of apple juice in hand. “Quick question, how’d you get into my digs?”

“Dave, I am your Lawyer,” Terezi deadpanned. Oh yeah. Dave mentally kicked himself. He checked his watch to see that it was noon. Damn, he couldn’t even play the ‘it’s too early for this shit’ card. Terezi entered the kitchen and watched his plight with amusement. “All I needed was the key, smart one. Your big brother was more than polite enough to leave it under the mat for me,” she smirked a little, before waving her hand. “But never mind that, Dirk will be back soon and I have business to discuss with the two of you.”

Sometimes, Dave forgot that Terezi actually worked for them. When she wasn’t discussing her actual work with him, she was just so...not lawyer like. She joked around constantly, and loved to push his buttons more than John did. Of course, Dave served it right back at her, which only made her laugh even more. It was a comfortable friendship, to say the least.

So when she did get down to business, it was startling. Her demeanor changed almost completely from the insane, perpetually cackling batshit lady to a serious, blunt businesswoman. She still cracked jokes, but they were laced with an edge that Dave couldn’t place. He hadn’t seen her in an actual trial yet, but he was certainly afraid to.

The funniest part was she had only ever set foot in a law school once. Terezi learned everything she knew from her mother (Neophyte R. Pyrope, whom Dave had seen in the news and thought was scary as shit) at the time she got the sex talk (“It was a two week session on sex and justice,” she had explained at one of their coffee shop outings). Despite not having an actual degree, she knew her stuff.

Dave shook out of his thoughts, leaning back on the counter and taking a sip of apple juice.

“‘Aight, just don’t lick the walls or anything. Hell knows none of us clean them. Who knows what kind of shit you’d pick up.”

“...Too late…”

Dave’s expression was that of disgust and horror for about two seconds before the grin on Terezi’s face shot down any possibility of her actually licking the walls. God damn it, he was losing his touch.

The two of them sat in the kitchen and poked fun at each other until Dirk came home, a box of pizza in one hand and a liter of orange soda in the other. He set the box on the table, poured himself a glass of the orange soda and stored the rest in the fridge before sitting next to Dave, across from their lawyer.

“You’ve got details, and I’ve got pizza. Let’s get to it.”

Terezi cracks her knuckles, reaching into her bag and grabbing a manilla folder labeled ‘STUP1D STR1D3R P4R3NTS’ in red pen.

“I was contacted yesterday by Dalton and Brandi Strider and informed that they intend to sue you. They want ten million, claiming the amount will settle the grief caused by Broderick’s supposed abduction of you two.” Dirk clenched his fists, and Dave set a hand on one of them, urging Terezi to continue. Their lawyer nodded, taking out a couple photocopied documents and a notepad she had scribbled a list on. “Your brother was not technically your legal guardian at the time that you were abandoned, but he took full custody of you as soon as he turned 18. You guys probably already knew this. But that small gap gives them just a hint of advantage, if they play their cards right.”

There was silence. Dirk was still very tense, and Dave was left speechless. Ten million? What the actual fuck? The nerve they had to do this, after who knows how many years they left them to fend for themselves.  They had no right. They had absolutely no right. Dirk voiced their shared thoughts on the matter out loud.

“Pardon my french, but that’s bullshit. They don’t deserve a penny.”

“Shh, settle down,” Terezi responded, her blank eyes somehow twinkling underneath the red lenses. “I never said they knew how to play their cards right.”

Both of the Striders stared at her blankly until she sighed, bashing her face into her own palm.

“I have seen the work of their own attorney, and I am not impressed. He’s a very...conservative fighter. Plays everything by the moldy, out-dated book. He also smells terrible, like frozen hot-dish and regret,” she shuddered at the thought. If it had been any other time, Dave would have snickered. “I’m not expecting anything successful from him.”

Dirk and Dave exchanged glances, both with mirroring expressions of worry. Dirk turned back to Terezi. “Are you sure you can win this for us, Terezi? Absolutely positive?”

The lawyer responded with an oddly reassuring smirk.

“If I wasn’t, my name wouldn’t be Terezi Pyrope.”

 

-

 

Dirk was sitting at his desk, fucking around with one of Squarewave’s glitching programs when somebody gently knocked on the door. He knew who it was, as he’d been pestering him all day until the emerald suddenly stopped appearing. Dirk hadn’t been particularly worried about it, but as he walked to the door and saw Jake through the peephole, he was beginning to think that he should have. He looked nervous, which was unusual for him. The confident, sometimes oblivious man he knew and loved now looked very pale. And afraid. Dirk swallowed, a cold wave of dread washing over him.

“Jake, are you okay?” he asked as he was opening the door. The emerald-eyed man perked up, plastering a too-happy smile on his face.

“Oh, Dirk! You startled me...terribly sorry, I was lost in my thoughts,” Jake brushed off, reaching for Dirk’s hand as he stepped in. The blonde took it, lacing their fingers together.

Jake’s hands were clammy. Dirk didn’t say anything about it.

They started off as they normally did, sitting on the futon and talking. However, this time it was Dirk doing all the talking and Jake just sitting there, alternating his gaze between the floor and the ceiling. Usually, he would bounce right into the conversation, talking enthusiastically about whatever came to mind, like upcoming Daft Punk events or letters from his grandmother. He would use hand gestures and old-time expressions, his eyes as animated as his facial expressions. The orange-eyed Strider couldn’t help but wonder why Jake was acting so odd.

“...Jake. Are you sure you’re okay?”

For a second time in the few minutes they’d been together, Jake was forcibly pulled out of his thoughts. “I’m listening! You said they were suing you for ten million. That’s a tough one, chap, it really is.”

Dirk sighed, leaning a little bit of his weight onto Jake’s side. “I didn’t ask if you were listening, I asked if you were alright. There is obviously something on your mind, and I would like to help you with whatever you’re going through.”

There was silence. Jake looked up at him, and then to the hands his lap, messing with a hangnail on his thumb absent-mindedly.

“Jake, please.”

There was a pleading tone in his voice, which made Jake flinch a little before heaving a heavy sigh.

“Dirk...there’s...something I need to tell you,” he started, choosing his words with care. Dirk squeezed his hand in a silent beg for him to just spit it out. "My grandmother in Egypt...well, she...sheaskedmetogotoegyptforanexcursion,” he mumbled the end out quietly.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“mygrandmawantsmeinegyptforanarcheologicalproject.”

“Jake, I can’t hear a word you’re saying. Please speak up.”

“Oh, confound it! I’m going to Egypt, Dirk!”

And now, the silence was initiated by the other. A million thoughts ran through Dirk’s mind at once, but he could only utter one word in return.

“Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com or Hammer at burnieplease.tumblr.com, and we'll get back to you! Or just comment here. 'Cause that's super coolio, too ^^


	30. Get Lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((. . . . Look at the rating, fair warning, just. . .))

"Oh?" Jake repeated softly, biting his bottom lip as he forced himself to look up at Dirk. The blonde didn't look as if he were trying to hide anything, but his expression was truly blank. Horribly so. It made Jake squirm as he stood in place watching Dirk. 

"Oh," Dirk parroted, letting out a whistle through closed teeth before pushing himself to stand as Jake watched him, "just. I don't know why anyone would fly all the way to Egypt for a visit. It just seems-"

"I'm not visiting, Dirk," Jake clarified, his shoulders deflating. His guilt must have been evident on his features, because tension pulled both of Dirks eyebrows together the more he looked at him.

Silence. "I. . . I don't understand."

"My grandmum offered me lodgings with her for as long as I'd be staying there, and a chance to do something that even seasoned archeologists may not get to do during their time," The Brit sighed, watching as Dirk's jaw clenched, "But this opportunity is fantastic, I can't pass it up. My grandmother is offering me a chance at working on an actual excavation, this is huge. By golly, this is a colossal dream of mine being granted!"

Four years of college, countless hours of study, and an entire raising based around the idea of adventure and discovery. Jake's love of music was only surpassed by his love of archeology, of finding something new in the old world. He'd studied it, and his grandmother had been talking to him for years about bringing him on an excavation with her. 

But after joining Daft Punk, he'd nearly forgotten that offer. 

Until she called him and told him they'd discovered a sealed tomb, and their team needed one more person. 

"You can't pass up digging up things that belonged to dead people, or looking for some desecrated tombs that you'll need to clean with a god damn tooth brush? Seriously?"

"Hey," Jake said, standing up across from Dirk as he got defensive, "I went to college to study up on those 'belongings', and its an actual dream of mine to go and find those 'desecrated tombs' myself, confound it. An entrepreneurial dream, sure, but a dream none the friggin' less."

"Well well Lara Croft, as fun as raiding tombs sounds, what am I supposed to do?"

Of course Dirk would react badly. Jake had expected nothing else but sarcasm and harsh words as his usual defense, but this time there was something different. There was anger, but. . . . 

Dirk was using his shades to his advantage, something off about his expression but unreadable in the current circumstances due to tinted plastic. His face was twisted into an expression that Jake hadn't seen in the entirety of their relationship, which was worrisome all on its own. Still, Jake continued.

"You'll manage without me, you can find a new manager without even trying. Fucking shucks buster, you'll have people throwing themselves at you just to get in with Daft Punk! it shouldn't even be a p-"

"I could not give less of a fuck about Daft Punk right now if I tried," Dirk said, his voice still snappish as his face told a different story that Jake was having trouble trying to read, "I don't want you to leave. Me. I'm the one who doesn't want you to go."

He'd been able to read Dirk's face in any state for months now, knowing a thousand different variations of poker face and nonchalance like the back of his hand, and here he was, lost in the most important conversation they were having to date as Dirk's expression pinched again. Watching Dirk go back to pacing, Jake swallowed, biting his lip.

But emotion was creeping into Dirks voice that wasn't anger, and forcing Jake's heart to clench, "Don't make this more difficult than it has to be," he begged, standing still as Dirk stopped pacing and stepped forward. 

Jake felt his chest ache a little as he realized what Dirk was showing as he slipped his shades off, hanging them in the collar of his shirt as his eyebrows tipped down on the far ends. The look was pleading. Dirk was actually pleading. "Fuck yes I will. Don't go."

"This is something that I've wanted to do my entire life, something I studied for years and dreamed of having a chance to do," He was almost begging as well, "try to understand." 

"I. . . . " Dirk closed his eyes for a second, "You've been with me for years too. Believe it or not, I've gotten kind of used to you."

The smile that Jake offered was amused even through all of this, his hand tangling with Dirk's, "And I hope to be with you for years to come, love. I'm not leaving you, Dirk, just the country."

"And the band. And my general area. How long will you be gone for?"

Jake lifted Dirk's hand, kissing his knuckles to avoid speaking as he made eye contact with the carpet. Dirk squeezed his fingers, coaxing his gaze to meet his own, "Jake. How long?"

"It's a two year excavation," He mumbled quietly against scarred skin, and Dirk's hand was ripped away from his own as his eyes went wide. For the first time his expression was stripped bare, and what appeared to be panic wormed its way onto his face. 

"Two years?" He hissed out.

"Dirk, please!" Jake said, reaching out to grab Dirk's hand and wincing as he backed up, avoiding the contact.

"You'd be gone for two years? No trips, no visits, no anything?" Dirk gritted out, the hand that Jake had been kissing moments before clenching tightly enough to turn his knuckles a harsh white. Jake was afraid he was going to punch something. 

"I'll talk to you as often as I can on the phone, and we can still talk over Skype," Jake offered helplessly, "I can't pass this up, this is everything I've ever wanted. Besides you."

"The time difference is immense," Dirk pointed out, "we'll never even be awake at the same time."

"I'll stay up late! Or wake up early, I don't care!"

"Between a full time excavation and working in the heat for ridiculously long hours? I won't be able to do do it either, not with how much work we'll have to go through once Discovery releases." The sigh offered up was deep as he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Is it even worth it? We'll never talk in real time, it'll end up being emails that are sent between touring on my part and raiding on yours. That's not even a relationship."

Jake froze in place, looking at Dirk as he tried to swallow his heart, which took refuge in his throat the moment his chest and skin ran cold. ". . . Please don't be insinuating what I think you are."

"And what if I am?" Dirk challenged, lifting his head and looking at Jake with a raised eyebrow. 

He immediately regretted it when he saw the green eyes in front of him well up, Jake's bottom lip quivering. Shit. "Please, chum, don't."

"I," Licking his lips, Dirk stepped forward as he sighed, "Don't cry, I just mean that I'm not going to hold you back. Not in any way."

"Excuse you!" Jake exclaimed, wiping at his eyes roughly with the back of his hand as his expression turned defiant, "In what universe would dating you ever hold me back?"

"In this universe, the universe where you're going to a different fucking country. What if you meet someone? Someone who's there, in the flesh, who's working on the same site as you. What if you fall for someone else while I'm fucking around here, waiting for you to come back?" Dirk asked, hearing Jake sniffle a little before feeling two strong hands meet his chest, hitting but not shoving. 

It hurt, more than Dirk would admit, but he looked at Jake with a surprised expression as Jake continued to argue with a runny nose, "How dare you insinuate that I could just fall in love with any Sam or Sally when you are the only person that I ever want to be with! I will never fall for someone the way I did for a ludicrous silver robot that blushed every ten seconds or for a stupid blonde with a blank expression and an ego the size of King Kong! Holy fucking mackerel, I told you about this with the hope that you would be excited for me, or to make a half-arsed attempt to understand, but here you are offering me a chance to break up with you as if I'd ever willingly do that." Sniffling, he hit Dirk's chest again as if he were beating on a door, but not hard enough to hurt. It was simply out of frustration, and a lack of knowledge on how to verbalize exactly what he was feeling. Although he doubted even the most talented of people could at that moment. There was hurt, surprise, anger, love, a billion thoughts that he couldn't decipher and overall, an odd sting of rejection. Sucking in a shaky breath, he wiped at his eyes as he felt solid arms wrap around his frame, before Dirk was kissing the top of his head, "I don't want to leave you either, Dirk, I-" Hiding his face in Dirk's shirt, he gripped the material tightly, "And I sure as bloody hell don't want to lose you."

"Shhhh," Dirk hushed, sounding a little stuffy in Jake's ears as he kissed Jake's hair again, "Shh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm not breaking up with you, I'd never want something like that. I-"

"You. . ." Pulling in a shaking breath, Jake grabbed the front of his shirt tightly, pulling him impossibly closer, "You coldcocked jerkwad, I can't believe you thought I'd ever willingly-"

He went silent as he was hugged even tighter, to his surprise hearing a sniffle that wasn't his own. His head snapped up to catch sight of Dirk wiping at his eyes, guilt nearly forcing him to open his mouth and address it before Dirk beat him to the punch and began to speak, "Fuck, alright, I'm not good at this. I swear to god if you make one dumb joke about how this sounds, I will take it all back." Clearing his throat, he tipped his forehead to rest against Jake's hair, "This is something I can't give you. I can't ever offer up a chance to do something this big, or even offer up going with you because my work, my entire life besides you, is here. I don't like it, and I don't personally want you to go, but if it's what you want, I-" He paused, rethinking the statement before speaking with no doubt in his voice, "Because it's what you want, I offer my full support."

Giving a watery smile, Jake wrapped his arms around Dirk's neck and kissed him once, pulling back just far enough to speak, "Really?"

"I'm not saying it because I want to," He grumbled jokingly, working a small laugh out of Jake before kissing him again. "How long until you have to go?"

"A few weeks," Jake said, sniffling once more, "I can help you find a new manager before I leave, and-" 

"Right now music is the last thing on my mind," Dirk admitted, "I honestly could never talk about it again and feel comfortable with that decision."

"You don't mean that," Jake chided, but was shut up by another kiss, this one a touch more insistent. A moment later he felt dampness against his cheek, but he couldn't guess for the life of him if the tears were from Dirk or himself. 

"Right now," Dirk mumbled against his mouth, "I care about this. Forget our jobs, I care about right now."

Again, this worked a smile out of Jake, before he felt his eyes gush a bit more. Dirk had never, up until this point, shown this large of a variation of emotions at one time. And it was because of him. 

Something about that hurt but also felt absolutely wonderful.

So he kissed him again, because he could, and because he felt like he should this time with the knowledge that the liquid against his cheeks was from both of them and this time feeling guilt claw its way into his chest as he pressed closer.

-

In essence, they were a stumbling mess. It almost would have been easier if it could be like it was in the plethora of movies that Jake was so fond of: all glimpses of skin on camera as hands and mouths worked seamlessly to hint to the viewer that yes, this was a sex scene, but not some over ridiculous mess and far classier than just straight out porn. But watching Dirk fail to take off his own shirt before cussing like he'd just learned how while Jake could only laugh from the bed made the situation that much more endearing, that much more bitter sweet.

Once they'd realized that they were making out in the middle of the living room, Jake had made his way to Dirk's room without a second thought, both of them at least trying to be a little quiet so as not to alert Dave nor Bro that anything was even happening. Dirk shuddered at the thought of what they'd have to face in the morning if either of his asshole brothers heard.

They really hadn't needed to clarify what was about to happen when each kiss turned from pained to a something a bit nicer, and Dirk had mumbled that they were more cliché than any shitty romance novel ever could be while Jake just laughed, pressing his face into Dirk's shoulder. 

It was like a scene out of a movie in one way:

One person says they need to leave the other, they share a night together before they do, and then the other chases them down in the airport and they live happily ever after.

But this time, Jake was leaving and Dirk wasn't going to chase him, because he knew he wanted this. There was going to be no swell of romantic music as the camera panned showing Dirk having to pass by some security guard, no big scene made in the terminal. Jake was going to be standing in the middle of a crowded terminal, alone, because if Dirk were there he wasn't sure that he'd be able to get on the plane. He would be there while Dirk was asleep in his apartment, completely unaware that Jake had told him the incorrect time on his flight and that their goodbye would be through hands and mouths the night before. There was going to be no music to cue the viewer in on what this one boy was feeling, just the chatter of hundreds of people, while Jake would stand tall with dry eyes and a forced smile.

Of course neither of them knew any of that yet, both just focusing on pressing their palms and fingers everywhere they could reach. Dirk was tense even with Jake being gentle, glasses and shades abandoned on the ground as the two people on the bed proceeded not to give a shit. They'd done this before, but it was still a moderately recent development, causing every noise made to be questioned, the other person making sure the former was alright, that it felt alright. 

"Jesus Jake, I'm fine," Dirk huffed out, shifting his hips a little and giving a small noise, "relax."

"I can promise you that I'm not the one between the two of us that needs to relax," Jake countered, crooking his fingers to prove his point as Dirk damn near bit through his own bottom lip, "Hint hint, you're squeezing my fingers to death."

"How romantic, I'm swooning," Dirk said, putting the back of his hand to his forehead before waggling his eyebrows, "You sure know how to win a guy over."

"That's swooning?" Jake questioned with an amused grin, pressing both fingers upwards inexpertly, hitting exactly what he hoped he would as Dirk jolted suddenly, his eyes going a bit wide, "see, now that looks a bit more like swooning and a lot less like being an absolute dickens."

"That is surprise, arousal, pleasure and the phantom feeling of someone sitting on my bladder, not swooning," Dirk defended as he pushed his hips downwards once against Jakes hand, his words shaky, "And speaking of 'dickens'," He tried to say casually, however sounding as if he couldn't catch his breath while his tone lowered, "Is your dick going in anytime soon? Because this is just -"

"Just. . . .?" Jake cooed, leaning down to kiss Dirk softly as his fingers rubbed inexpertly over the small bundle of nerves, feeling Dirk moan against his mouth as he chuckled. 

"You suck," Dirk panted out the moment Jake pulled away, "This is just teasing. Ass."

"So I should stop then?" Jake queried politely, his fingers stilling.

"Dude next time you bottom, you are so fucking in for it," Dirk threatened, reaching out to grab Jake's dick and grinning like the cat who ate the canary when the ravenette let out a surprised grunt, "Now don't stop."

It was as if no bad news (or good news, depending on how you look at it) had been delivered. It was just them, laughing over each other and ignoring the fact that they were both sporting stains down their cheeks that the tears had left in their wake.

Their banter still continued, Jake fumbled with the condom for nearly a whole minute and put it in backwards three times ("Cheese and fucking crackers how could I get this wrong this many times over?! It's rigged, I swear."), before getting his hand swatted away and Dirk being the one to put it on, laughing the entire time while Jake sat back sheepishly. The smiles they wore could only be described as honest, Jake's being fond and Dirk's being in response to Jake's. 

For being sex, it wasn't sexy in the slightest. By the time Jake was fully seated with a groan, Dirk sucked in a deep breath and asked, "Does your dick make my ass look big?", which sent Jake into a laughing fit that caused Dirk to choke on his own tongue due to the sudden movement and lack of adjustment. However, it was less than a minute later that Dirk began laughing as well, because Jake was still giggling into his chest and the fact that something this stupid was interrupting sex was funny all on its own.

Every kiss was met with a soft grin, both of them breathing completely off kilter and Dirk having to shift his legs repeatedly before eventually just draping one over Jake's shoulder and grasping his hand in Jake's own. From that angle, Dirk couldn't reach himself, but being the gentleman that he was Jake was more than willing to assist, getting Dirk off with only a slight cramp in his wrist.

It was awkward, hilarious, soft and sweet with laughter to tie up any silence, with gripped hands and shaky breaths and with a feeling of total serenity. The movements between them were surprisingly in time, ("We're musicians, it's damn near poetic Jake, come on,") Jake at one point biting Dirk's shoulder to keep himself quiet and Dirk nipping at the tip of his nose in retaliation with a roll of his eyes and hips.

By the time that Jake was collapses on top of him, both of them damn near drenched in sweat and sticky with lethargic limbs struggling to even function, Dirk decided that he really didn't want any of it to have happened any other way. 

"That-" Snorting a little, Jake pulled out with a cringe before flopping back against Dirk's chest while letting Dirk's leg fall back to the bed. He was laughing as his face was peppered in kisses, sucking in air greedily and exhaling in the form of audible delight, "was ludicrous."

"Eh," Dirk sighed, pressing another kiss to the bridge of Jake's nose, which was, for once, uncovered by his normal glasses as he pulled in steady, full lunged breaths, "We'll do the passionate thing later, scouts honor."

Pulling Dirk's hand back to his lips, Jake kissed his knuckles again, still trying to catch his breath as he giggled, "It was capital."

"Yeah," Dirk agreed, wiggling his fingers against Jake's chin with a smile, "It was perfect." And really, in his mind, it was. It was intimate, fun, something that soothed a wound that he'd be feeling shortly. That he'd be feeling for literally years to come. But for right now, at that moment in time, everything was good. His arms were fantastically occupied with Jake's body, their legs tangled and the air stuffy with an extremely distinct scent and the vapor of a thousand exhales adding to the heaviness. It really was perfect. Well, mostly perfect. "But as much as I love you, being glued to you with spunk is a little less perfect. Come on, shower time."

-

He should have known they'd somehow know. 

And of course Bro and Dave had recruited John's help to humiliate the both of them.

Dirk awoke to the smell of coffee and the feeling of Jake squeezing him a little in his sleep, mumbling something about fixing the couch and renting a golf club. His eyes hurt horribly, and this mystery as solved when he realized that he never shut the curtains like he was supposed to, the only flaw that their new house possessed. His sensitive orange gaze tried to see where he put his shades, but couldn't make anything out through the blinding light of the sun and there was no fucking way he'd find them blindly. 

So instead he resigned himself to closing his eyes again, his free arm going to cover his eyes as the other wrapped around Jake, running his fingers through his hair and not noticing the tension that his sleeping body began gaining. 

He felt drained, for having just got a good amount of sleep. And his eyes still hurt even covered from the light, aching in an unfamiliar way.

Maybe it was from the crying. That was draining and made sense for his eyes hurting.

Right. He'd nearly forgotten he'd actually cried. 

Over Jake. 

Fuck. He was leaving.

"D'rk?" Jake mumbled, leaning into the touch on his head as he gave a yawn, "'t time is it?" His accent was heavier in the morning, lilting heavily on vowels as he yawned. Dirk loved it. 

"No idea, I can't see," Dirk shrugged, feeling the bed shift next to him as Jake crawled out, what he was doing unknown to the blonde. Mercilessly, the entire place dimmed, the heavy curtains Dirk had bought to cover that damn window being put into place before Jake crawled back into bed, kissing Dirk's forehead once. "Thanks," He sighed out in a relaxed tone, feeling Jake put his shades into his hand before relaxing slightly on top of him. 

"You're helpless, you know that?" Jake teased tiredly, giving a large smile as Dirk began brushing his fingertips over his back.

"I had an inkling," He admitted, patting the small of Jake's back once, "Now get up, coffee sounds great and then we can come back and never leave again." 

"I'd argue with that, but it sounds like a jolly good idea," Jake laughed tiredly, feeling Dirk kiss him once before he smiled and rolled off of him with a long groan, "Flipping Christ, where are my trousers?" 

This caused Dirk to smirk to himself before getting up and wincing, treading lightly before walking over to his dresser and digging out a pair of pyjama pants and throwing them at Jake before pulling out a pair of his own. Jake noticed his boyfriend's discomfort and immediately offered, "Aww Dirk, stop acting so 'butthurt'." He got flipped off before Dirk hid a chuckle. By the time they were both at least slightly decent, Dirk was leading the way out to the living room when he had to open the door to his bedroom. 

"FUCK," Dirk yelled out the moment he opened his door, watching as what felt like thousands of condoms rained down from above the door. From behind him, he could hear Jake give an exclamation that he'd never heard before, both of them covering their heads. 

Later they would find out that Bro, Dave and John had cleaned house at ten different stores finding every box of condoms that contained orange and green foil squares. By the time the assault from above finished, Dirk squinted and looked at the sea of protection, plucking up one and turning it over. 'Don't be silly, wrap your willy' was written in black pen, causing Dirk to let out a small groan. 

Some of them had nothing written at all, but when they did it was just as embarrassing as the first. 'PRACTICE SAFE SEX BOYS', 'so now you know is it an exotic dick or top notch knob', 'BITE THE PILLOW IM GOING IN DRY', '[insert dick joke here]', 'Don't be a dick, wrap your Dirk', all of them written in either black, red or blue. 

It was then that Dirk decided he hated his family. 

"Good gravy!" Jake said from behind him as he began to kick his way to the door. There must have been somewhere in the hundreds, "How in gods name did they even manage to get all of these set up?"

"I have an idea," Dirk sighed, glaring at one that said 'who said romance is dead?' in blue ink, "I officially hate your cousin." 

"At this rate?" Jake said, picking up a few and flicking through them, his eyes going wide as he read, "I do too." 

Apparently the 'trap' had been set up to rain from the entire stretch of hallway that his bedroom door had, so there was literally an ocean of condoms that Dirk had no idea what to do with as he trudged through them. "God fucking damn it."

From the front door, Bro, Dave and John high fived with large grins, empty boxes still littering the living room as the three of them left for breakfast, a well earned treat after that much hard work. 

But hey, at least they made coffee. 

 

-

 

Dirk spent a week and a half deciding what he was going to do. There was still over a week until Christmas, and Jake was leaving the day after. Neither of them had told Dave, knowing he'd react horribly, and were deciding to do it on Christmas when he was drunk off of eggnog and had John there to calm him down a little. 

So far they had spent damn near every waking moment together, which hinted Bro in on the fact that something wasn't right. But, luckily, his Bro wasn't that big of a dick, so he refrained from pressing the issue too much. The same couldn't be said for Dave, but if Dirk so much as commented on the fact of his little brother's sex life Dave would have to shut up because John would blush like an idiot and have to excuse himself. It was a good defense. 

Dirk wasn't accepting any of Jake's help to find a new manager, for reasons unknown. He told him that they could do it later but Jake was positive that Dirk was avoiding the inevitable.

Dirk's own decision couldn't be told until Christmas, along with Jake's, and unfortunately he planned to do it as a prelude. Maybe it would lessen the blow. Maybe it would worsen it.

The day itself was of course, devoid of snow seeing as it was Texas, and a balmy 63 degrees. Everyone woke up somewhere around noon, shuffling their way out into the living room and waiting for the rest. Unsurprisingly, Bro was last, and upon getting there collapsed on the couch before telling everyone to open there shit, which was the only cue that either Dirk or Dave needed, even as Jake and John shook their heads. They were also going to be having Roxy and Jane come over later that evening, but for right now it was a group of boys ripping into some stupidly ironic presents. 

Dirk got a heavy sweater sponsoring Grape Crush, while Dave got a pair of sunglasses that were completely clear with a neon blue frame and looked like they'd been stolen from Hot Topic. Bro received a bag of about three hundred used batteries, and Jake got a copy of the first Tomb Raider game, which caused him to cry for reasons unknown to everyone but Dirk as John got another copy of Con Air with Nic Cage's face scribbled out in black marker. 

There were real presents, of course, even if the ironic ones were just as entertaining. Dozens of items later, and finally each boy was getting to their biggest gift, Bro going first. 

Bro opened his present and was gifted with the best sewing machine either boy could manage to find, his old one having beginning to broken down but its owner too stubborn to replace it. He looked at it with a blank expression before offering a 'thumbs up', which may as well have been him weeping tears of gratitude at Dirk and Dave's feet. Or at least they thought. 

John got another copy of Con Air, this one actually signed by Nic Cage to John, and John cried for half an hour. Dave admitted that he'd had to wait in line for four hours six months ago for that, and was tackled while John could only kiss him repeatedly and the other three throwing a few of Bro's batteries at them.

Dirk's biggest gift was from Dave, who just threw a pair of keys at him and told him to look outside, directly at a bright orange Camaro. Their shitty car was nowhere in sight, and Dave assured that he could still say goodbye to the monster before he sent that thing to the damn junk yard because it was a hazard, seriously. 

Jake's gift was a new laptop, Dirk explaining that he'd already loaded up with Skype, TinyChat, and IMing while he Jake his face against Dirk's shoulder, the blonde not sure if he was smiling or tearing up again.

The final gifts were two large boxes, which Dirk dragged out from behind the same crappy, three foot Christmas tree that they'd had for years now. He pushed one to Dave and waited patiently, watching as his brother opened it with a look of confusion before he just stopped moving completely. "You fucking didn't," he said, and Dirk smirked. 

"I fucking did, now try it on." 

What was pulled from the box was an elite version of Turntech's helmet, this one not having rainbows, but the metal being more heavy duty, the screen being darker, and the construction apparently more solid. In Dirk's own box was an upgraded version of Di-Stri's helmet, the shape only slightly different but the biggest change being that the screens were no longer in the shape of his shades, but a black band directly across, balancing it out well. Their old ones had taken damage over the sheer amount of moving they'd had to do, the adjustments that they'd had to make, and the blunt force trauma that John had inflicted on Dave's when he'd tackled him all that time ago.

"This is-" Dave just blinked, running a thumb over the screen, "Wow, holy shit bro."

"This is for two reasons," Dirk said, sitting up a little bit, "First off, I thought an upgrade was needed. But, secondly," He cleared his throat, scratching at the back of his head while behind his shades, his eyes dropped, "I made them for our last concert." 

"Last?" Dave asked, his cool expression dropping to one of confusion as he looked up at his brother, his hand stilling on his screen. 

"Dave, I'm quitting Daft Punk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I'll probably write smut for this that isn't totally hilarious next chapter, but eyy whatever. And yeah. Well. There will only be about 3-4 chapters after this, no matter how long they'll be, so unfortunately this story may soon be drawing to a close. Enjoy the mental image of Dave's heart breaking. Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or Time at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com and we will get back to you!))


	31. Short Circuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Wow. This is the most co-oped chapter to have ever co-oped. There is a mashup of both of our writings all the way between this. Also there are a metric butt ton of story breaks in this. Like, a lot a lot. It's ridiculous. Anyways, enjoy!))

Maybe Dirk should have waited until everyone was drunk.

Maybe he should have waited until he was drunk.

It would have made Jake and Dave's rants bearable, or the shock and dismay John wore on his sleeve a bit easier to swallow down with a swig of vodka. Maybe it would have even helped Dirk stand the way the Bro shook his head slowly, hinting Dirk in on the fact that he'd actually disappointed his older sibling as he spoke with Dave.

Disappointing Bro was damn near sacrilegious, and Dirk realized this was the first time he’d actually done it.

Ouch.

"What the fuck, you can't just quit!" Dave snapped, his helmet sliding to the floor from his lap, all but forgotten. Thankfully John moved it behind Dave, away from flying hands and an angry expression, and Dirk was actually a little thankful. That thing had taken days on end to perfect, he really didn't want something bad to happen to it out of anger.

"Dirk you can't do this," Jake said, frowning and putting his hand on Dirk's knee, "Just because I'm leaving Daft Punk doesn't mean-"

"What?!" John and Dave looked at Jake with mouths agape, and Dirk simply sighed, shifting his fingers under his shades to pinch the bridge of his nose while Dave ranted, "Jesus Christ, what happened? Did someone invite Yoko Ono to Christmas? Why are you leaving?"

"I'm moving to Egypt," Jake answered, looking between his cousin and his friend evenly, "My grandmother offered me a chance to go to work on a tomb that's been sealed for thousands of years, and I couldn't pass I up."

"Moving?" John repeated, looking at Jake with almost comically wide eyes. When Jake nodded, John’s expression turned upset as he frowned, “Permanently?”

"Two years, old chap," Jake responded with a sad smile, reaching out and patting John's shoulder, "but I'll return when it’s all over, I swear it."

"So what, you're going to Egypt with him then?" Dave asked, turning to talk to Dirk as the two ravenettes got into a conversation. Reaching out, Dave grabbed John's hand blindly and had to hide his surprise as he realized that John’s fingers met his halfway. Looks like they both needed the contact, then. From what he could hear, John was getting progressively more and more upset, but the most he could do was squeeze his hand lightly as he kept his eyes trained on Dirk.

"No," Dirk said, shaking his head just a touch.

“What, not immediately?”

“No, not ever. I’m not going to Egypt, I’m staying here.”

His words were loud enough to butt into Jake and John’s conversation causing Jake to look up in surprise, and Dave pretended not to see the disappointment that flashed over his managers eyes.

"Why then?" Bro asked from the sofa, crossing his arms and sitting back as he looked between the four boys on the ground.

"It doesn't matter,” Dirk responded aloofly, getting another shake of the head from Bro.

"It kind of does, asshole,” Dave argued, feeling John squeeze his hand as he ignored a sniffle coming from his boyfriend’s general direction, “To me, to Cronus, to everyone even associated with us, it matters a lot. Don-"

Dirk held up a hand and stopped him, looking at Dave over the edge of his shades, "When we first started this, all of this, you said that if I ever wanted to quit, I could. If I got sick of it, we’d be done. I'm telling you right now, I want to quit, and that should be enough of an answer."

Dirk knew he couldn't do it. Without Jake there it wasn't going to be the same, and while that may sound over dramatic to some, it was the honest truth. Without Jake, they wouldn't even be sitting there at that moment. They'd be back in their old apartment, still enjoying themselves but having no security, no band, no significant others, no. . . anything. Jake was one of the first actual friends Dirk had ever experienced, as well as his first boyfriend, and he was leaving the US, not to mention it felt like he was just leaving Dirk himself.

They would never find a same manager of the same caliber, and Dirk no longer felt the actual want to play. The love of creation that he usually had had just. . . dissipated.

It was hard to create when your usual inspiration was leaving in front of your very eyes.

Dave looked him in the eye, shades be damned, and it was as if he could tell. Dirk almost felt his skin crawl as he saw Dave’s mouth, which was pinched in a tight and annoyed line, relax a little, the corner ticking downward while looking his older brother over. Maybe Dirk was wearing his thoughts across his face, maybe his still bleeding heart was on his sleeve or maybe Dave was just trying to actually be understanding, he just didn’t know. It was enough, though. Dave broke eye contact first, looking at the floor before looking back up and seeming resolved before, for the very first time in his life, he played a role he never thought he'd have to; The good brother. "Alright."

"Alright?" Jake said, head perking up a little to turn and look at the blondes as his conversation with a now sniffling John got cut short, "You're not going to try and talk him out of this?"

Dave and Dirk were still looking at each other, faces completely blank, and Bro was the one who answered, looking between his brothers, "He won't be able to, Dirk's made up his mind."

"Dirk-" Jake was about to argue, but the front door was hit open as Roxy strutted in with a large grin and a crooked Santa hat, lips painted red instead of black for the occasion. Jane was in tow with a phony white mustache, carrying a large platter of cookies and both of them wearing smiles.

"Oh booooys! Who's ready for some good old fashion eggnog and Christmas cheer?" Roxy asked with a carton in each hand and waving them a touch before stopping when she looked at the scene.

John was crying, Jake was teary eyed, Dave and Dirk were tense and Bro was just. . . Bro.

"Did we interrupt something?" Jane asked with a grimace, setting down the cookies and looking between them.

“If we didn’t, this isn’t the kind of Christmas I imagined,” Roxy said honestly, and Jane batted at her upper arm before moving to pull Roxy out of the apartment. That was, until Dirk held up a hand, stopping them both.

"Guys, you need to sit down for a second."

-

An hour later, Roxy had nearly punched both Jake and Dirk in the face and Jane had just cried.

John had cried with her, and Dave had sat quietly, seeming to detach himself from the situation as he held John's hand while looking at the helmet he’d been given. Not touching it, but simply staring, dragging his knees up to sling his free arm around and rest his chin on while looking at it like it had caused all of this.

Bro watched everything unfold quietly, and Dirk almost wished he'd just leave so he'd stop looking so ashamed.

Dirk promised that he'd go on a few concerts for Discovery, but otherwise he'd avoid association, which only caused Dave to squeeze John's hand just a little too hard as he looked at the blank face on the ground. Jake had to break the news that he was leaving the day after Christmas, which made both of his cousins cry even more and worked tears out of the Brit himself as they hugged.

Roxy had squeezed him tightly and hadn’t cracked a single joke for nearly her entire time there, telling him that he’d write, call, message and video chat at every chance he could while he just laughed and cried simultaneously into her shoulder.

The car, helmets, and laptop were forgotten, everyone now just feeling pained and upset while Dirk sat there awkwardly because he caused this.

The only person who commented on him leaving the apartment was Jake, who was ignored as Dirk closed the door behind him, an old habit settling in as he jiggled the door handle to make sure that it had clicked shut before he realized that he hadn’t had to do that since they moved. The new door always shut, he’d never need to jiggle that handle again.

They’d moved to somewhere with a good doorhandle, one that worked. Because they could. They were rich, they could afford that sort of thing. He should be used to it. But he wasn’t. He just wanted to be back in time, at their shitty apartment with their shitty door and without the shitty weight he could feel pressing into his stomach.

It was dumb that it made him feel worse.

He walked with his head in the clouds, thinking to himself.

He supposed for being famous, they were lucky. After California, they’d ‘disappeared’, according to the media. In reality it was because the media hadn’t found out that they lived in Texas, let alone where they lived in Texas. According to the world, the only information people had on Dave and Dirk Strider was a picture of two boys, one looking sick and leaning on the other as they stumbled out of a club. They didn’t have Facebooks, they didn’t have an old Myspace, their names weren’t on any Youtube accounts, there was nothing. They didn’t have any information that anyone could get ahold of, nothing that could prove they were the blonde boys everyone thought they were and who a few elite knew they were. There was just no proof.

For all the internet knew, they didn’t even really exist. They were just names typed up on a blog.

So why did Dirk feel so smothered?

“Dirk!” Jake repeated, louder this time as he put a hand on Dirk’s shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. Blinking a little, he realized that he was in the middle of a street that he didn’t recognize, with a panting Jake in front of him, looking pink in the cheeks. The sky around them was grey, looking like it was about to rain, but the only thing he cared about was that Jake was having trouble catching his breath.

He must have walked farther than he had thought.

Had he been running?

“Hey,” Dirk said lamely, looking at Jake with a blank expression as Jake gripped his shoulder tightly, sucking in steady breaths.

“What made you dash off?” Jake asked, and Dirk almost felt the need to laugh at that.

“Besides everyone crying and Dave looking dead inside?” Sticking his bottom lip out sarcastically, Dirk shrugged, “I felt the need for some fresh air.”

Jake almost cracked a smile. Almost. But instead of his mouth turning upwards, it turned down, his entire demeanor seeming to sag a little as he broke eye contact with Dirk. “You’re not taking this seriously,” He accused, his grip on Dirk’s shoulder tightening, “Holy Hannah, I’m leaving tomorrow and you decide to tell me something like this now? That you’re quitting something that we’ve both worked so hard on?”

“What was I supposed to do, wait until you were already in the air?” Dirk asked, and Jake let out a huff.

“How about not do it? You can’t give up just because I-”

“It’s not because of you,” Dirk lied, reaching down to grab Jake’s hand, “It’s-”

“Raining,” Jake finished for him.

“What?” Dirk asked, just as two droplets hit his cheeks, freezing against his skin. Looking at his boyfriend, he was actually surprised to see that he looked a little less tense, his shoulders relaxing a little as he let the rain hit him. It was only when his hair was a touch more damp that he pressed his thumb to the center of Dirk’s palm, clearing his throat.

“Come on you, my flat’s closer.”

Dirk wasn’t about to argue.

Allowing himself to be pulled along by the hand, Dirk felt the need to squeeze Jake’s hand tightly, sighing a little. The rain from above started to fall more steadily, the water itself being positively freezing in contrast to the humid air and causing the streets to be cleared of pedestrians in what felt like seconds. Dirk was keeping a blank face even as he had to keep his teeth from chattering, while Jake held nothing back and let his shoulders and hands shake from the cold, eventually huddling against Dirk to keep warm.

It wasn’t for another five minutes that they reached Jake’s apartment, and by the time they reached it both of them were soaked to the very bone.

“C-cloth-th-ing off-f-f,” Jake ordered, shuddering the moment they stepped inside the place and beginning to strip, “Y-y-you’ll get hy-p-poth-thermia.”

“I’ll be fine,” Dirk managed to say in a straight tone, having to move his hair out of his eyes to look over at his soaked companion.

It actually worked a smile on his face, to think that this was how he was spending his Christmas.

Rolling his eyes, Jake continued to slip off his shirt, running his hands through his hair to squeeze out what water he could, “St-trip, St-trider.”

“Am I working for ones or fives?” Dirk asked immediately, feeling warmth bloom in his chest at the sound of Jake laughing. His shirt came off within a mere moment, earning a grin from Jake.

Two minutes later, they were both bundled up in the sheets of Jake’s bed, curled together with damp hair and hidden faces. Jake, in the crook of Dirk’s neck, Dirk’s in Jake’s shoulder.

Silence took the place over, and Dirk couldn’t bring himself to make any more banter. It didn’t seem like the time, considering this was his last night with him. He was about to speak, mostly just to hear Jake’s voice, when he was shut up before he even started. “I’m sorry,” Jake muttered into the silence, and was immediately met with Dirk shaking his head.

“Don’t,” He hushed, “This is my choice, thanks. I’m not having everyone think you made me choose it by living your own life.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” Dirk cut off, “I want something different, that’s all. Shh.”

“. . . D’you think after all this, I could ask a favor?” Jake said quietly, curling his splayed hand into a loose fist against the small of Dirk’s back as he pressed closer.

“Anything.”

“Capital,” He said, “I’m keeping this place,” He mentioned in reference to his apartment, “But I can’t pay for upkeep. Do you think, since you’re staying, you’d mind house sitting?”

“You’re offering me to live in your apartment?” Dirk said, honestly surprised as he pulled back a little from their ball of limbs to look at him. They’d both left their glasses on the end table, easily in reach unlike last time, so his view of Jake was clear as day; laugh lines framing his green eyes, his expression hopeful, with pink covering his cheeks and nose from the cold.

“If you’ll accept,” Jake countered, smiling as he leaned forward to press his nose against Dirk’s.

Blinking again, Dirk let his eyes fall closed, leaning into the contact just a bit, “Do I get paid, or. . . ?”

Jake began laughing before picking up one of the pillows, sitting up to hit Dirk as the blonde laughed.

-

Seven in the morning. A time of day that Dirk hated, and Jake knew that.

He hated it too.

He also knew, as he gathered his things and glanced over at the expanse of stretched skin and sleeping smiles on his bed, that if he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t want to do it at all.

The night before had been like the movies. The passion was up to the nines, just like Dirk had promised it would be when he’d found out that Jake was leaving and they’d spent a ridiculous night together weeks before. It was loving, it was sweet, it was beautiful.

But.

Their giggling mess from weeks prior, however, would probably be what Jake would remember the most. While passion was lovely, there was nothing that could even compare to being with Dirk and having his defenses down. His smile was enough to render Jake’s heart as good as melted, and he doubted he’d have any better memory than Dirk smiling with him.

Like the smile he wore then, still curled up in Jake’s bed.

He hoped more than anything that Dirk would be able to drop his defenses without him there to do it for him. It wasn’t healthy, keeping yourself blank for the world. And at that point, Jake couldn’t be the only person that Dirk was honest with anymore. At least not in person.

The luggage was heavier in his mind than it was in reality. His limbs protested every movement, and he reconsidered going back to wake Dirk up no less than fifteen times before he managed to pull himself out the door, squeezing his eyes shut to keep them as dry as possible.

Neither of them had said goodbye, just goodnight. Dirk didn’t realize that it was their goodbye.

Jake had never felt worse.

In the airport, Jake had never thought he’d pray for a movie plot to come true as badly as he wanted one to happen then. And yet Dirk never came sprinting forward, the airport didn’t simultaneously ‘aww’ when he found him and kissed him, and he wasn’t called at the last second and told not to get on the plane.

No, he was alone. Perfectly alone, at one point lacing his own fingers together just to feel a bit better but it made it worse because his own hand didn’t fit as well as Dirk’s did. He couldn’t hug himself, he couldn’t comfort himself, he couldn’t do anything like Dirk could. And as time went on it was harder and harder to remember what was at the other end of this flight and easier to remember what he was leaving behind.

He should go home.

Instead, he slipped in a pair of earbuds, put his iPod on shuffle, and boarded the plane with the throngs, passing off his ticket without a glance back.

Finding his seat wasn’t too much trouble, the song he was listening to beginning to fade as he put his carry on in the overhead bin. Sitting down, he realized he was at an aisle seat. Lovely.

He just needed to relax. Closing his eyes, the next song started.

Ten seconds later, he had to duck into the on flight bathroom to hide the liquid gathering in his eyes, his iPod now playing music at his seat where he’d ripped his earbuds out when the words poured out smoothly;

  
 _“Last night, I had a dream about you. . . . “_

-

“-Ngh. Fuck. Your room is too bright,” Dirk complained, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of light that was bombarding his face, “We’ll have to buy curtains.”

Reaching out, Dirk grabbed his shades blindly before pausing, feeling around a little.

There were no square glasses next to it.

Sitting up and turning his head away from the window, he slipped on his shades before looking around.

The closet was open and empty.

The bed was cold next to him.

“. . . Jake?”

-

The katana rattled against the coffee table when Dirk threw it down. Bro only offered a raised eyebrow.

“Strife. Now.”

Bro gave him a concerned glance, not moving from his seat on the couch. Dirk didn’t back off, keeping jaw set and his arms crossed. To anybody else, he would’ve looked in control of himself. But Broderick knew the signs of distress in the tense muscles of his arms and the thin line his mouth was pressed into.

“I’m usually the one who initiates ‘em. You got something on your mind?”

Their eye contact was short-lived. Dirk finally shifted.

“All you need to know is that there’s shit that I need to take out on something, and a strife is perfect for that.”

He knew his brother was in a tough spot, but this was different than any other situation they’d been in. Dirk was in love with this Jake kid. To see him miserable was as shitty for Bro to experience as it was for Dirk himself. And he still couldn’t get a read on how upset his little brother really was.

A strife would probably help him gauge it.

“Alright. Gimme five minutes.”

That was all Dirk needed to storm out, grabbing his own weapon from the wall and heading for the roof.

-

The intensity of his hits in this particular strife were enough for Bro to conclude that Dirk was extremely upset.

They had been going for maybe three minutes, and for one of the first times in his life, Broderick was on the defense for more than ten seconds at a time. His little brother was handing his middle-aged ass back to him with ease. His technique was off-kilter whenever he let his emotions get the best of him, but he blocked them out with the algorithms of combat. Dirk showed no mercy, leaving slices in his shirt (his favorite shirt too, the little shit) and sometimes he left cuts in him. As accustomed as he was to harsher casualties, Bro didn’t want to spend the rest of his night bandaging himself and taking too much ibuprofen. He pushed on, taking back the offensive whenever he could.

Bro fought with precision, but after many years, he had fallen into a comfortable rhythm in these fights. A rhythm in need of a strong bassline, and maybe a couple samples from their last gig…

No. Dirk growled to himself, startling Bro before taking back the offense. Yet in his current state, he couldn’t help but still have those thoughts. Part of him listened to the clang of metal on metal and thought, Hey, this would be a cool sound to add to the next song. But it wouldn’t. Because there wouldn’t be another song. The sound of the street below reminded him of the song that got them into this mess, that gave him the thought of making those damn helmets and talking to a silly green-eyed radio host…

He didn’t know which was worse. The pain he felt now, or the pain of knowing he was cursing the very thing that led him to the love of his life, who’d left him without a goodbye.

The pause he made was almost enough for Bro to catch him off guard, but when the elder Strider made his move, Dirk simply grit his teeth and pushed harder. The hits picked up in intensity, taking on a new speed. Bro was borderline flash-stepping away from the hits whilst Dirk pushed him backwards. The older one uttered a soft grunt as the back of his foot hit the edge of the roof, but Dirk wasn’t relenting.

Bro actually had to grab Dirk’s wrist and smack the pointed glasses off of his face to get him to stop.

And Dirk did, his expression changing from that of unadulterated anger to that of horror. “Oh. Uhm. Sorry.”

Bro acted as if he wasn’t about to shit himself from being so damn close to the edge, dropping his sword behind his brother and raising his hands in surrender.

“C’mon, you win. How may I be of service to you?”

Dirk backed away, suppressing the shaking in his hands by grabbing his forearms in an iron grip. “Nothing. You’re clear.”

“Dirk…”

“What?”

“Get some rest, man.”

He gave a feeble nod, staring off into space, before taking both swords, scooping up his shades, and making his way to the door. Bro followed after him, assessing the damage done to him, his shirt, and his opponent.

Yeah, Dirk was definitely broken.

-

The court date had been on December 30th, four days after Jake had left.

The first few days, Dirk was scarce. Understandable, and both Bro and Dave stayed out of his way while John made sure to give the Strider’s space after the breaking up of the band and due to how Dirk was acting. Everyone let him move around as if he were stuck in molasses, no one bothering to even be rude to him just to mess with him or tease him at all. If Bro made food, he turned it down, if Dave played music, he made him shut it off.

The fourth day, the day of the trial, he hadn’t came out of his room at all and Dave was beginning to get annoyed. “How long does it take one dude to get ready? You can only polish a piece of shit so much,” He said through the wood, hitting on Dirk’s door with a closed fist. He was dressed in the only nice clothing he had, a red button up with black cuff links and a grim expression.

He was going to have to see them. His parents. Dave would never admit that it made him feel absolutely anything, and yet he shuffled his feet as he stood, hitting on Dirk’s door.

At least he had Dirk and Bro with him. That made the thought of having to meet his parents for the first time in person bearable, because he wasn’t alone. None of them were.

“Tell him we’re leaving in two minutes, with or without him,” Bro said as he walked past, fingers flying as he tied his black tie to go with his own orange shirt, a black jacket already covering most of the color Bro sported.

“Two minutes, dude,” Dave repeated, hitting on the door as Bro brushed past him.

Still nothing.

Trying the handle and finding it unlocked, Dave pushed the door open with a loud, “Dude, fucking seriously?” when he utterly and completely stopped, as if he couldn’t process the sight in front of him.

Dirk’s room was entirely empty.

The bed was there, and the dresser, but.

Clothing, books, movies, cds, blue prints, robotic pieces, tools, garbage, posters, swords, everything. There was nothing.

“Bro?”

“What’s wrong?”

The silence clued Bro in that whatever Dave was bitching about probably needed to be seen, and his brother appeared at his shoulder in a moments notice.

“Something w-” His eyes flitted over the room before realizing what it meant in its entirety. And yet, he could only stop his sentence early, now able to see exactly what was wrong with the picture. Stilling and watching Dave get tense, Bro remained stoic as he let his hands fall away from his tie.

“Oh.”

-

Dave was surprised to find that Dirk even still lived in Texas. Both he and Bro had been positive that he’d skipped out of the state and was going to avoid the trial, but no. There he was, in a suit and orange tie, his shades on his face ( Dave would openly insult them if Bro wasn’t right behind him) and his hands in his pockets, sitting at the trial. He didn’t make any move to acknowledge them at all as Dave and Bro entered, pissing the youngest off instantly.

“...Dave, are you even listening?” Terezi whispered harshly into his ear as she led both him and Bro to their seats. Dave didn’t even bother to hide the shake of his head, glancing at Dirk again. Their lawyer sighed dramatically, leaning onto the table as soon as they reached it. “Alright, just let me handle it. Don’t worry, you’re not leaving here empty handed!”

He gave her a little nod, which was enough for her. She focused on other things, sniffing around the room until court was in session.

Bro had Dave sit next to Dirk, the final order being Terezi, Dave, Dirk and Bro all in a line. Glancing over, Dave could catch sight of the two older people at the table down the room from them, but didn’t bother to even look. Not fully.

After they all ‘rose’ and ‘fell’ for the honorable judge, as soon as said judge started talking, Dave pulled out his phone under the table and opening a new chat in Pesterchum.

 

TG: so you wanna know a great thing to wake up to after getting ready for court  
TG: going to your room to see if youre up and its empty  
TG: thrilling shit  
TG: it also needs an explanation but im gonna let you whip that up on your own time  
TG: meaning now  
TG: what the fuck bro

 

Dirk’s phone starting going off in his pocket, drawing the attention of other people in the room and from at least two people in the jury. He was able to silence it after the first four pings, by pinching at the frame until he could drag his phone out, both he and Dave seemingly looking straight forward as they messaged. The shades came in handy once again.

 

TT: English wants me to house-sit while he's gone.  
TT: I figured it would be more efficient to just move in.

TG: hm fran drescher good to know youre playing nanny  
TG: but you cant just move out  
TG: thats like taking us out for dinner and not calling  
TG: you cant just leave without a warning

TT: What the hell was I supposed to say?  
TT: "I'm moving into my boyfriend's abandoned apartment, see you in two years."  
TT: You would never have let me go.

TG: that would have been better than knocking on your door and finding nothing  
TG: bros pissed even if hes not showing it

TT: And of course Bro is pissed.  
TT: That's why I didn't tell him.  
TT: Or you.  
TT: But here we are.

TG: he would have been less pissed if youd just fucking said something  
TG: instead i nearly got my suit ripped in a strife

 

Dirk’s mouth ticked up at that, not noticeable unless someone had been staring, at the mental image of his brothers fighting in their current attire. It was almost amusing enough to ignore how pissy Dave was being, but nothing could beat that at the moment. Glancing around and noticing that no one could tell that they were texting under the table, Dirk responded.

 

TG: i dont get why you want to move into your exs place

TT: We're not exes.

TG: prove that when hes here and not burning in the egyptian sun

TT: Long term relationships exist, asshole.

TG: and from what i can tell youre not in one

TT: Don’t you fucking dare.

TG: and dont i dare what?  
TG: point out that you two are basically over  
TG: he wouldnt have agreed to leave if he was happy with the situation he was in yo  
TG: he didnt like being our manager i guess  
TG: but that couldnt have been the only problem

 

Next to him, Dave could see the mental image of someone sticking a key in Dirk’s back and winding it repeatedly, watching as his muscles coiled up and his jaw clenched.

Dave smirked.

 

TT: How would you feel if John moved to Japan? What if he just left you to go and become some crazy computer tech?  
TT: You wouldn't be saying this shit then, would you?

TG: it would fucking suck and id tell him that  
TG: but i have a job here

TT: Daft Punk isn't a job, as much as I hate to tell you that.

 

Now it was Dirk’s turn to watch Dave get wound up over just a few words, but his was a bit more noticeable. He shuffled, huffed, and shook his head before typing with a little bit harder of taps, Dirk rolling his shoulders a little as if readying for a fight.

 

TG: yeah tell that to our bank account  
TG: or all the hours weve put into it

TT: People put hours into a lot of things that don't matter.  
TT: It started off as a shitty mix that made it onto the radio.  
TT: And do you know who put that shitty thing on there?  
TT: Jake.

TG: it wasnt shitty  
TG: it was what put us on any sort of map

TT: I could care less if I was on the map.  
TT: I just want to

 

Next to him, Dave watched as Dirk shook his head and tapped the backspace repeatedly, retyping what he was about to say.

 

TT: You know what?  
TT: Never mind.  
TT: I don't even know why I waste my phone's battery on you.

 

Dave nearly bit through his own tongue as his anger flared, his eyebrow raising as he responded accordingly.

 

TG: 'nevermind' of course your go to statement  
TG: probably because you know im right  
TG: your relationship is over  
TG: you cut off your only source of income by quitting

TT: Shut up.

TG: you moved out of your own fucking house  
TG: and here you are while your own parents are trying to sue you  
TG: thats why youre wasting your battery on me

TT: I said shut up.

 

Glancing over at his brother and raising his eyebrow even higher, Dave could practically watch Dirk’s resolve breaking down in front of him. Again, he glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them, but instead to the woman speaking up front, that woman being none other than their own lawyer.

 

TG: i wont shut up

TT: Pay attention.

TG: to what?

TT: Our blind lawyer is trying to get us out of some deep shit, and you're sitting here on your phone, pestering me.  
TT: I'd say this is pretty fucking important.

TG: yeah and i trust our blind lawyer  
TG: more than i trust your awol boytoy at least

TT: He is not an awol boytoy.

 

Dave looked pointedly at Terezi at that point while Dirk had to resist the urge to flip him off.

 

TT: Maybe I should've just gone with the original plan. Then we wouldn't have to be so close. And we'd have those leeches we have to call parents off of our backs.

 

That caught Dave’s attention. His gaze turned from Terezi to Dirk immediately, brow furrowing before typing.

 

TG: original plan?

 

The look that is supplied in return is regret, Dirk trying to shake his head minimally and shoo Dave with a small twitch of his hand, like he was a stray animal.

 

TT: No, I'm not starting this.

TG: what the fuck do you mean 'original plan'?

TT: Shut up, Dave.

TG: dirk so help me god i will start actually fucking talking out loud  
TG: what plan

TT: Nothing stopped you from talking before.  
TT: It's not like it fucking makes a difference.

TG: dirk  
TG: what plan  
TG: what were you planning on doing

 

From next to them, Bro managed to shoot a look to the both of them that very clearly said, “What the fuck am I missing?” while barely even changing his expression. Dirk giving an actually audible sigh as he looks away from their older brother with a dismissive ‘don’t worry about it’ wave, his fingers flying.

 

TT: Fine.  
TT: I was going to make a deal with them.  
TT: 3 million to stay away or go to court.

 

Dave’s eyes actually widened, and Dirk didn’t miss it.

 

TG: you were going to what

TT: I could've gotten them off of you.  
TT: Off of Bro.  
TT: Off of me.

 

And then Dirk realized that he fucked up when Dave was all but stabbing at his phone with his thumbs, grinding his teeth a little.

 

TG: they dont deserve to look at the ground weve stepped on and you were going to fork over three milion?

TT: It's not as big as ten million.  
TT: It would have been better than this.  
TT: But I thought against it because I knew you would flip a tit, just like you are now.

TG: do you not remember being poor?  
TG: thats a lot of fucking money  
TG: even i know that  
TG: that would set them up for life  
TG: and they fucking ditched us  
TG: they walked out the door without a second thought  
TG: and you were going to hand them three million  
TG: oh my god  
TG: here why not also hand over your first born and the deed to a fucking cattle ranch

TT: It's not like you don't have any money now.  
TT: 3 million doesn't even make a dent in your account.

 

God, if they weren’t in a courtroom Dave vowed to himself that he would would have decked the selfish bastard that was his brother by then. Part of him was tempted to hit him under the desk, but they weren’t attracting attention yet and they didn’t want to, seeing as their discussion so far had been at least a little important. Before Dave began to feel like Dirk may only care about the cash aspect of their entire group.

Until he reread the last message.

“Your?” He murmured under his breath, frowning.

 

TG: our account

TT: Yours.  
TT: I'm off the account.

 

Dave went wide eyed again as he looked over the edge of his shades at Dirk, who was sitting pin straight and facing the judge. He wondered if he could gather enough force to stab Dirk in the leg with the pencil he had in front of him enough to actually wound him.

 

TG: what the fuck is going on with you?  
TG: i dont want that account for myself that was ours

TT: It never was mine.  
TT: And what's happening with me is none of your business.

 

Cue an eye roll from Dave, who just made a mocking yapping hand under the table and ignoring the middle finger that it was met with.

 

TG: kind of is  
TG: family members  
TG: band members  
TG: a lot of shit there dude

TT: Daft Punk was yours. I just made the helmets.

TG: thats bullshit and you know it  
TG: without you a lot of those songs wouldnt even exist  
TG: one of our greatest hits was something that you made on the fly  
TG: that band is just as much yours as it is mine

TT: But not anymore.  
TT: Maybe I don't want to be remembered as an anonymous robot.  
TT: Maybe I don't even want to be remembered.  
TT: I don't know.  
TT: But it would be a hell of a lot easier to figure out life without you breathing down my fucking neck.

TG: i have to breathe down your neck

TT: You don't have to do anything.

TG: all of this shit involves me besides your nonexistent love life  
TG: youre my brother and we work together  
TG: that covers family and job right off the bat

TT: And I fucked it all up for you.  
TT: Another reason why I'm not going to do it anymore.  
TT: I'm not fucking up your future for you, Dave.  
TT: As insufferable of a prick you are, I still care about you.

 

The younger one paused.

He. . . . Honestly hadn’t been expecting that.

His phone flashed.

 

TT: Asshole.

 

That was more like it.

 

TG: dick

 

Dirk let out a huff through his nose.

 

TT: Bitch.

TG: jerk

 

Dirk actually had to hide a smile behind his hand at that, seeing as it’s so ironically unoriginal, until he was nudged by Bro’s foot. One slight tip of Bro's head, and Dirk’s pointed to the fact that their parents were watching them by then. Shit, they were becoming obvious. Watching as Dirk cleared his throat and adjusted his posture, Dave got the silent memo and did the same, both of them looking back to their phones.

 

TG: you werent fucking it up  
TG: we were going places  
TG: our futures were fine  
TG: and you know it

TT: No, I didn't.

TG: they were fine enough for you to feel the need to cut it off before you thought it would get fucked up on its own  
TG: at the pace we were going we could have gotten huge  
TG: we are already world wide  
TG: were platinum in seven countries

TT: But what if we didn't, Dave?

TG: what do you mean what if we didnt?

TT: What if we became a summer hit, and then fell to shit?

TG: then wed let sleeping dogs lie and live our lives  
TG: id go back to mixing  
TG: hang out with john  
TG: see our friends  
TG: just live dude

TT: Then do that now.

 

Dave frowned.

 

TG: but i dont want to now  
TG: were not a summer hit that fell to shit yet  
TG: were huge  
TG: we still owe a lot of fucking fans

TT: We were huge.

TG: are

TT: Were.

TT: I'm not coming back.  
TT: I'm done, Dave.  
TT: I can't do this anymore.

TG: cant do what?  
TG: are you really going to live your life with the giant cloud of what if rolling over your head?

 

The sigh that his sitting companion let out was enough to make Dave turn his head to his brother, meeting the sight of an unironically broken individual.

 

TT: My entire life is based off of the probabilities of success. Daft Punk was never a part of that. Daft Punk was a chance to work on music, spend time with my dick of a brother and have a fun summer. I didn't expect this to happen. And now the probabilities are adding up again. Probabilities I don't want to fucking deal with.  
TT: What if somebody else finds our faces, confirming eridans post and sicing the paparazzi on us even worse than when they knew where we were in California?  
TT: What if somebody actually comes for our family if our address somehow gets out there?

 

Dave ignored that he had valid points and instead took in a deep breath, willing to fight until Dirk realized what he was giving up.

 

TG: that doesnt make the responsibilities that came from a few probabilities any less important  
TG: what about discovery  
TG: thats just about to come out  
TG: and what about tavros  
TG: we owe him

TT: I'll do a few more tours of Discovery, but when I'm done, I'm done.  
TT: Tavros will get his song.  
TT: I'm not denying him that. He's been through shit.  
TT: But I no longer want this to be the lead of my life.

 

Dave reread the last sentence at least four times before continuing.

 

TG: so what are you going to do now?  
TG: sit back  
TG: hide in jakes apartment  
TG: watch my little pony and avoid the world again

TT: I'm going to work on my robotics.  
TT: There are people who have messaged me interested in commissions.  
TT: In monetary amounts that would set me for life.

TG: you could have been doing that this entire fucking time if youd really wanted to  
TG: along side working in daft punk

TT: No, I couldn’t have. And you knew that.  
TT: I'm going to actually work full time in an engineering position.

TG: youre already set for life why do you even need a job  
TG: god what do i have to do to get that through your thick head?  
TG: youre already set  
TG: bro is  
TG: i am  
TG: you are  
TG: were set for the next three lives combined if we wanted to be  
TG: that was the point of all of this for you wasnt it?

TT: The point of all this was not to make money.  
TT: Remember when you were just high on life from hearing your own music on the radio?  
TT: You did it for the music.

TG: why did you accept that first job dirk  
TG: i did it for the music  
TG: you didnt  
TG: i still do it for the music  
TG: which is why im still not letting you say da funk was shitty

TT: I did it as much for the music as you did.

 

“Pick a side asshole,” Dave mumbled to himself, not caring if Dirk heard or not.

 

TG: so that makes sense as to why you just said all you did was provide the helmets

TT: You can't use my words against me.

TG: oh yes i can  
TG: fucking watch me

TT: That's not how this is going to go.

 

Dave bit his bottom lip to avoid making a noise as a foot connected with his shin, no one even noticing that he pinched Dirk’s thigh in retaliation before the two of them were elbowing each other.

 

TG: if all you did was provide the helmets then how could you have cared at all?  
TG: thats like a guy changing a cars breaks and getting sad over a new paintjob two years later

TT: I enjoy music as much as you do, Dave. Believe it or not.  
TT: But I am plum out of fucking inspiration.  
TT: So I have to go back to my roots.

TG: you can find inspiration in more than just jake

TT: I can. But I can't at the same time.

 

Glancing at Dave and seeing his expression, Dirk could practically see Turntech’s question mark hovering over Dave’s incredulous expression.

 

TG: holy shit  
TG: hes got you so whipped

TT: I thought I said we weren't bringing him into this.  
TT: Take him out, or log out.

 

Shrugging a little, Dave rolled his eyes as Dirk jumped to his defense. Of course he would. Because Mr. Fantastic over in the catacombs was so perfect that he deserved everyone on his side.

 

TG: hes the reason you quit and we both know it  
TG: from not having him as a manager or inspiration apparently

TT: You know nothing.  
TT: I'm the only one who knows my own intentions.

TG: i know enough to put two and two together  
TG: if jake was here youd be smiling over our next tour  
TG: instead youre sulking while hes cracking open a sealed door to a dead dudes bedroom

TT: You know one incentive. One.

TG: i can guess and i know you

TT: That doesn't mean you can read my mind.

TG: face it dude  
TG: he started the band on the radio  
TG: and he ended it in egypt

TT: If you don't stop blaming Jake for this, I will break your thumbs.  
TT: He is not the reason Daft Punk is over.  
TT: I am.  
TT: Don't. Fucking. Pin. This. On. HIM.

 

Caps lock. Hm. Glancing slyly out of the corner of his eye, Dave saw all the signs that Dirk was losing his cool just like he had all that time ago. His hand was clenching his phone tight enough that he could break the poor thing, his knuckles white, and his fingers shaky.

But instead of licking his wounds he’d been dealt and knowing when to shut up, Dave pushed.

 

TG: hes the reason youre flitting off and avoiding responsibility  
TG: hes the reason you moved out  
TG: and hes the reason you quit  
TG: youre like a lovesick teenage girl its disgusting  
TG: hes just a guy  
TG: and hes apparently ruining everything by proxy

TT: Go fuck yourself, Dave.

 

While the second witness of the trial was mid-sentence, Dirk shoved his chair back and stood, his phone in his pocket before the action was even completed and drawing every pair of eyes, even Terezis, to him as he walked out, his hands at his sides and his feet dragging.

Murmurs broke out instantly, the judge having to bang his gavel just to get everyone to settle down enough to tell the witness to continue as Terezi gave Dave a look.

Dave was about to put his phone away with tense hands when it flashed again.

 

samuraiKiddo started pestering turtechGodhead

SK: ‘Aight, what the actual fuck did you say to him?

 

Seeing Bro watch him out of the corner of his eye, Dave tapped out the message with one hand, by the end of it hitting the touch screen like each letter had personally wronged him.

 

TG: the truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments, questions, concerns? Message Hammer (burnieplease.tumblr.com) or Time (cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com) and we'll both get back to you!))


	32. Motherboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Shorter, but hell have I been busy. Will update within the next two days with a lot more written ^^ Also, this chapter is to Lemon- My Rock))

Terezi won their case for them. 

Bro and Dave sent her probably the most ridiculous gift basket they could manage ("If we try hard enough do you think we can fit a pony in this?"), along with a 'bonus' check (in all reality, she deserved more than they could actually afford to give her) and a bottle of the best champagne around. She's just laughed with a familiar and comfortable cackle, and told them that she'd be there for anything else that they needed, business wise or not. Dave appreciated it, truly, and Bro seemed to have warmed up to her over the sheer amount that she'd had to talk to them since they hired her. 

She'd spent the day at their house in celebration, along with John stopping by upon getting a call about it from Dave and offering his congratulations. Along with him he brought Roxy and Jane, both of whom were fast friends with his psychotic lawyer and seemed to get along swimmingly with Bro despite the tension that they'd met him in during Christmas. 

That had been a three weeks ago.

Dirk still hadn't called. 

"Do you think he will?" Bro asked as he sat back on the couch, sipping at a bottle of water. It was later at night at that moment, Dave planning on bringing John over seeing as his school break was ending in about a week. It was still the beginning of January, and yet Dave couldn't find a single fuck to give on what he was going to do after John left. 

"Probably not. I never thought I'd be broken up with through a text, he's probably lost my number by now," Dave answered sarcastically, lying back against the floor with closed eyes and his legs crossed. 

"Aww lil' man, should I go break out the Ben and Jerry's while we cut him out of all your pictures and talk about how he was terrible the entire relationship and you were a saint for putting up with him?" Bro asked, looking down at his younger sibling with a slightly amused expression. 

"I was a saint. And we burn the pictures. No point in trying to salvage them." Sitting up, Dave ran a hand through his hair as he looked up, making eye contact with the pointed shades, "I'm worried, Bro. He's acting like a completely different person and now weeks of radio static. It's not like him, usually he never shuts the fuck up." 

"You did kind of tell him that the reason he gave up on your band was because his boyfriend wanted to break up with'im and left the country," Bro defended with a flat tone, arching a pale eyebrow. 

"Fuck, I didn't actually mean it. He told me that our music was shit after moving out and quitting something that we've worked hard on. I knew he was saying it just to hurt me, why couldn't he know that I was doing the same? It was typical, sibling rivaling shit, we were just trying to get under each other's skin." 

"When you had me read through that conversation, you sounded pretty damn convincing," Bro said, "Just give 'im some space, he needs it."

". . . So what do I do in the mean time?" 

"Take his advice I guess. Live your life, kid, don't focus on it." 

"On the fact that he's gone? I was kidding about the break up thing, I really don't care that mu-"

"On the fact that Daft Punk is over." 

The words almost echoed through the apartment, and Bro didn't regret saying it in the slightest. They needed to be said. Dave had been avoiding that truth since it happened, and now it was time for someone to rub his nose in it and point out that he couldn't just ignore it. 

Instead of saying anything in defense of his precious group, Dave fell quiet, slinging his arms over the tops of his knees. Dropping his forehead to his forearms, Dave let out a long sigh, "What am I supposed to do now? That was my job, what took up most of my time, the lead in my life, can't replace it that easily." 

"Do something that you enjoy and shit, that's not music. At least for a while. There's a whole world out there, and thanks to a kick ass lawyer you've still got enough funds to do whatever the fuck you want."

"I can't just leave, that would make me as bad as English. I can't ditch you, or John, or any of my friends," Dave reasoned. It was then that Bro paused. 

"Have you thought of maybe getting closer to them? Your friends?" 

"They all live three hours away and I talk to them daily, I'm pretty damn close." 

"I'm talkin' about location, Dave." 

". . . Are you suggesting I should pick up and move to San Antonio?" Dave asked with a confused expression, lifting his head to stare at his older sibling. 

"No dumbass, I'm suggesting that you should consider something like college. In San Antonio." 

"That'd still be moving," Dave argued. But, thinking about it, he gave a soft hum. "College, huh?" he repeated, frowning. College. He'd thought about it, before Daft Punk came about, but back then he wasn't sure if he could get enough scholarships to pay it off. It wasn't like he had bad grades or anything, for being an idiot he was actually pretty smart, but. . . "What would I even go for?" 

"Not music, you've had enough of that," Bro reasoned, sitting up a bit more, "And art school's out of the fucking picture, I don't think Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff are on everyone else's level." Frowning just a touch, he took another drink of water before seeming to think of something, "You've always liked photography. And last time I looked at'a reel, it was pretty good stuff." 

"Photography." Dave rested his jaw against his hand, thinking a little. He hadn't even thought about photographing anything in so long. He really had loved it, almost as much as mixing, until his camera broke beyond Dirk's ability to repair it. He could buy a better camera now. And he could treat college as a new thing to take up his time, along with learning and shit. "I could get a Bachelors in that?" 

"Definitely," his brother assured, "But you'd need to think of some way to keep yourself out of the lime-light. Don't want any of those damn paparazzi finding out where you go and hounding you."

"Meaning constant hoodies and beanies," Dave translated, "Or dyeing my hair, but I'm not that much of a masochist, it would be impossible to bleach back. Everyone wears shades, so that's not a problem. But. . . I could. You really think I should? Is the University of Texas even that good? " 

"No idea," Bro answered honestly, "But we can send in your application, see if you qualify this upcoming fall."

"Fuck that's so long away," Dave huffed, flopping back against the floor. 

"It may be long right now, but you've gotta live in the moment," Bro shrugged, sipping away at his water, "Your boyfriend's heading back to college in less than a week, you still haven't gathered the balls to tell Cronus that the band's over, and you need to find something to do with your life that's not dealing with soundboards." 

"After John leaves, that doesn't sound like living at all," Dave mumbled moodily, sighing. Pushing himself to stand, he silently dismissed himself from the living room and wandered off to his own room, planning on passing out spread eagle across his bed and shooting John a text saying that he was just going to crash and spend the day with him tomorrow. But as he reached for the door handle, he stopped before glancing down to the end of the hall, where a white door hiding thousands of dollars worth of equipment resided. 

Glancing back to make sure Bro wasn't paying attention to him, Dave slipped further down the hall to the music room. He hadn't been in it in weeks, mostly out of spite at everything that was happening with Dirk, but the moment he saw the familiar thousands of knobs and lights in front of him, he felt as if his lungs had decompressed. He didn't even know they'd been straining. Closing the door quietly behind him, he walked behind their setup, standing to the left as per usual as he reached out, turning everything on. Glancing over to his right, he paused for a moment, almost expecting Dirk to be there like he usually was. Almost expecting them to start up a new song. But instead of that, he ended up finding his own helmet, the one that Dirk had 'improved' for him, sitting on some empty table space. Improved, sure, right before he left. 

He hated that stupid helmet. He would have been fine with his old one if it had meant that the news it had been given with would have never been delivered. 

For hating it so much, Dave didn't know when it had got into his hands, but before he knew what he was doing the helmet was sliding over his face, his hands snatching the shades off of his face before the ridge slid past his eyes and came to rest below his chin. It was familiar. It was somehow more comfortable than the first one, feeling like a second skin instead of a heavy helmet and mass of wiring and metal. Dirk wasn't a complete douche, luckily, and the switch to turn it on was in the same place as before, making it reflex when Dave went to turn it on. 

When it lit up, he didn't flinch. The screen itself flashed, no longer lighting behind the screen but in the screen itself, and Dave found himself wondering if anything had been changed on it that much.

He thought back to their first performance, and immediately felt the want to smile. In front of him, a green checkmark appeared, a bit crisper than the first one that used to appear, but also with the word 'yes' at the bottom. 

Scratch what he said before. Dirk was still a douche. The 'yes' was solely to annoy the fuck out of Dave and he knew it.

That thought made an all too familiar red 'x' flash brightly, but instead of just being large it went corner to corner. Of course Dirk would adjust that. 

It was easy, to test the new emotions. At one point he ended up thinking about John and what he would think about the helmet's upgrade, and was immediately met with a heart. But it wasn't the same one that had flashed upon his first incident. Instead, it was a text heart, but not the normal <3\. This one was eight bit, Dave's favorite, appearing to be an E instead of a three, forming a heart shaped as E>. Bright pink still, no change on that, but it was still an improvement.

That nearly made him smile. But it didn't. Instead, his screen went black again, giving the perfect poker face of black and gold.

Plugging in the helmet to the laptop, he tried to check the quality of the new headphones. Of course those had improved as well, causing him to bob his head to the beat as music played through smoothly enough to lull a child to sleep. His hand went to his left ear instinctively, the same way it had when he was mixing and needed to listen closer, relishing the crispness of each note and of every voice singing. 

He began to flip through their old material before too long, finding little snippets that would never be finished and entire skeletons of songs that were abandoned. There was one that caught his eye in particular, one that Dirk and he had started to record almost a month ago. There was barely a base beat, and their voices hadn't been altered much, but as if on instinct his fingers began dancing, listening to the sound warp and pull as he continually went back, changed the beat, saved, went back, changed the pitch, save, went back, changed the tone, save, over and over. The song wasn't a bad one, and due to the lack of lyrics it had to have the name "Human After All" seeing as that had been the only thing said up until that point. It was all familiar. It was comfortable. 

Dave didn't realize four and a half hours had passed in this fashion of making one song until Bro reached in and turned off the light, making a large, yellow exclamation point flash in the dark as Dave looked up, watching his brother walk down the hallway without another word. 

Some people had ways of coping with loss, but as Dave just reached over and turned on the light before continuing to work, Bro managed to ignore the thought that maybe Dave wasn't going to cope at all.

-

"B-Buy-Buy i-Buy i- B-B-"

"Fuck," Dirk muttered, tossing his wrench down before scrubbing at his face. Squarewave had never been a 'proficient' robot, but he'd also never fallen apart in the same way that he was now. Just from moving him apparently one of his internal chips had gotten jarred, fucking up with the speech of his first robot and pride and joy. Or at least that what'd he'd thought. Now he was wondering how much shit Squarewave had gotten jammed into his circuits just from roaming around their old shithole of an apartment. 

It seemed like everything was falling apart lately. He'd managed to make and sell exactly four of the dozens of commissions he'd been working on, so he had a pretty penny to spare that wasn't a chip off of the Daft Punk bandwagon, but. But it didn't feel like he'd done anything. It felt like he was camping out in an apartment that wasn't his, waiting for someone that would be gone for years. Overall, it felt hopeless, especially considering that he'd sort of abandoned his brothers and refused to call them or answer their calls in return. 

The feeling of independence was trapping him and he fucking hated it.

He'd tried to talk to Jake about it, but video chatting had only happened twice since he'd left, and each tim had been for less than an hour. Jake was apparently having a blast, digging with other respected colleagues and constantly taking pictures to send back to Dirk. It would have been fun to look at. If Dirk was there too, able to see what they could from every angle and not 2D through pictures sent to him. 

He didn't want to be in Egypt, God no, but fuck did he miss Jake. More than anything. More than making music, more than his own bed, more than feeling at ease. 

Speaking of Jake. They'd been talking for the past twenty minutes, the world on that side of the Earth dark and rendering Jake as good as useless with falling asleep. Dirk had told him to catch some shut eye, and after a billion "I' love you, I'll message you tomorrow"s, Jake had crashed. This, unfortunately, left Dirk to his own devices, literally, while trying to fix the fuck-up that had screwed with his robot.

"Come on buddy," He mumbled, fingers reaching out to slowly extract a chip of plastic that seemed to be jammed in the wrong place on Squarewave's back. It must have been stuck to his wiring in some way, shape or form, because almost violently the robot jerked, a familiar and electronic voice pouring out in another sick rap. 

But this rap wasn't sick. Hell, some of it didn't even rhyme. It was just. . . words. Maybe something had gotten jacked up on his coding? Frowning, Dirk listened, hearing the words fall into a steady beat. 

"Buy it, use it, break it, fix it, trash it change it, mail- upgrade it- C-Ch-Ch-Ch-Cha-Cha-Cha- SHIT I'M JACKED," Squarewave snapped before jerking again. 

"No no no, don't do that now," Dirk complained, hearing the words working a loop in his head. "You just need some rest dude, I'll fix you up I promise." Reaching behind Squarewave and shutting him off so his poor robot could have a little rest, Dirk frowned for a second. 

Whatever Squarewave had been going on about, it had an oddly good flow to it. Enough of a good flow that it was repeating in Dirk's mind over and over. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it could almost make a decent start for a song-

"No," Dirk muttered aloud, shaking his head. He was out of that world, he quit it. Forever. Meaning no impromptu song sessions. He didn't even have any equipment, there was no way that he'd be able to even make a song. There was no way that he'd want to make a song, the music was supposedly only Dave's thing, he'd only claimed the robotics section and that was good enough for him.

And still. 

Reaching out, he grabbed a pen and paper, scrawling down what he'd managed to remember before switching Squarewave back on. Again, his prize robot gave a violent twitch before starting again, but instead of stopping at 'Upgrade it', he continued, "Charge it, point it, z-zoom it, press it, Snap it, work it, quick - erase it-t-t-t."

The moment two sparks flew and Squarewave hadn't been as much of a little shit as usual, Dirk shut him off again, looking at the words and tisking his tongue. First things first, he needed to go down to the hardware store and check to see if he could find any tools to help fix Squarewave up. He needed to check out all of his internal wiring, and the intricacy needed was only found in tools that he'd accidentally left at Dave and Bro's. 

As he slipped on his shoes, he glanced over to where the slip of paper was, frowning to himself. 

He'd check the trash behind the hardware store and the music store, and if he happened to find a single soundboard, he may try to salvage it. May.Just for fun. Not to play a song.

No one would ever find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or Time at cyan-shenigans.tumblr.com Thanks for reading! <3 Ps, not much sleep was to be had on my part, so if you see any mistakes, spelling wise or grammar wise or anything like that, please feel free to point it out! I'm running on empty here so I may not catch it myself <3 Thank you!!))


	33. Indo Silver Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((A chapter to peak in on all the cuties, but also to get shit done. The next chapter is going to be a heavy read, so enjoy the cuteness ^^))

A lot can happen in six months. 

 

-

"Please!" Tavros managed to get out, wiping at his eyes with a shaky hand while the others stayed in a death vice on the bar next to him. The machine under him kept moving, threatening to drag his feet painfully behind him should he stop walking and forcing him to pull his right foot forward with a grunt. 

"Eight more steps," Vriska deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest and watching with an unimpressed expression. 

"I can't!" He tried to explain, feeling the harness dig into his thighs a little bit as he tried to force his legs to take another step. The physical therapy room was empty bar Vriska and Tavros, Tavros strung up in a harness comparable to a child's swing to put only enough pressure for him to function on his legs. The way this procedure worked was Tavros had to get used to the motion of walking, meaning bended knees and pushing his legs forward. Every time he seemed to master handling the amount of pressure he put on his feet, more was added. This time, he was walking on almost his full weight, his legs dragging and catching as the treadmill under him crawled at a one mile per hour. His tanned knuckles were almost pure white from how hard he was grabbing the support bars on either side of him to relieve the pressure on his knees. 

"Bullshit! Now stop being such a baby and give me eight more steps," She snapped, walking to stand in front of him with her hands on her hips. Ducking down a bit to look at him even as he kept his head hung, Vriska raised her left eyebrow. "If you don't give me eight steps now, I'll make you give me eight steps tomorrow when you're standing on your own two feet and don't have the harness," Vriska threatened, "Make your choice, Tav. Do you really want to do that to yourself?" 

Sniffling a little, his left foot dragged forward and landed solidly, causing his physical trainer's lips to curl up into a smirk as he pushed himself. She stood tall again, hearing him give a bit of a sob when he had to bend one of his knees fully as she watched him. 

"Five. . .  Six. . . " She counted aloud, damn near able to hear how hard he was gritting his teeth. His arms were shaking at the sheer effort of holding himself up from having to stand by himself, but still he tried, stumbling a little on the final step and letting out a surprised and pained noise as he felt a shock go through the bones in his left leg.

The absolute second he'd taken his eighth step, Tavros felt the machine under him stop as a machine began whirring from behind him, the harness he was in lifting just far enough for the tips of his toes to be pointed downwards and take all of the pressure off of his knees. This time the sob he gave was from relief, and next to him Vriska gave a large smile and patted his back. "You did great, buddy," She said, "I'm impressed. That was thirty steps on almost your full weight." 

The door was knocked on and stepped through without warning, Gamzee making his presence known with a start of, "Alright motherfuckers, I waited 'til four, now can we go? I-"

The sight of his best friend crying caused him to pause, brow furrowing as he closed the door behind him, "Tavbro, why you all up and crying? You alright?" 

"He did good work today," Vriska explained shortly, moving Tavros via harness so he was off of the treadmill before putting his wheel chair under him, lowering the harness so he could sit down in it as he just wiped at his eyes. 

"Good jobs mean gold stars and shit, not motherfuckin' tears," Gamzee pointed out with an unamused expression, walking forward towards the thirty year old as she undid the harness from around Tavros, letting the bands slide away so he was unhooked completely. 

"Simmer down kid, if I didn't push him, he'd still be in his hospital bed," Vriska defended, "I'm way too old to have a teenage Juggalo hopping on my back because he thinks I hurt his boyfriend. Trust me, he did great today." She patted Tavros's shoulder as she said it, working a small smile out of the teary eyed one and a scowl out of Gamzee, "Now you both need to scram, I've got another appointment in twenty minutes and a lot of clean up to do. Do you mind wheeling him out, Makara?"

"It's Gamzee," Gamzee said in a flat tone as Tavros looked up at him with a confused expression. The moment he caught his friends eye, however, Gamzee softened up a bit, walking around to the back of Tavros's chair and taking the handles. 

"See you, tomorrow!" Tavros threw over his shoulder as they left, getting the statement in return from Vriska right before the door closed. The second it was, he turned his head to look up at Gamzee, who was staring straight forward and avoiding eye contact, "Are you okay?" 

"'Course brother, why would I up and be anything else?" Gamzee said in a clipped tone, still not looking down as the two of them made their way down the hallway.

"You're acting all. . . Angry,"  It was then that Tavros reached up and tapped Gamzee's hand, trying to get him to look at him, "And it's obvious that it's because of, Vriska."

"Why would she make me angry, friend?" Gamzee questioned sarcastically, causing Tavros to actually feel just a little annoyed. He just wanted a straight answer, was that so hard to ask for? This annoyance is what caused Tavros to reach down and push the break handle on his wheel chair, feeling as the entire thing jerked and Gamzee was forced to stop. 

"Gamzee," He said, frowning a little, "What's wrong?" 

". . . I don't like the way she treats you," Gamzee sighed, shaking his wild head of hair a little before looking down at the mohawked boy, "She's all up and harsh like, makin' you kick to a tune you don't usually follow all while puttin' you in pain." 

"It's just, for treatment," Tavros soothed, turning a bit in his chair to look at Gamzee more fully, "She kind of does the uh, whole 'tough love' thing. It's working, isn't it?" 

"Well yeah, but-" Pausing, he sighed again, hanging his head a touch, "You've shed a lot of tears, brother, and she caused 'em. Tough love may work, but you gotta have some gentleness with it."

"You're gentle with me," Tavros pointed out, frowning a little as he looked up, "Isn't that, enough?" 

Gamzee was quiet for a moment before patting Tavros's shoulder, squeezing once, "It's never 'nough, Tavbro, you've been through enough things hurtin' you." 

Of course Tavros smiled at this, and was about to speak when his phone cut him off, ringing loudly. Fumbling to answer it before it rang out, Tavros held the phone up to his ear, reaching down and releasing his chair brake so he and Gamzee could move forward again. "Hello?" 

"Tavros," A voice spoke, one that Tavros didn't recognize. Frowning, he looked up at Gamzee with a raised eyebrow, Gamzee looking back with a confused expression. They both stopped moving forward, instead staying in place. 

"Uh. . Yes?" 

"It's Turntech," The person verbalized, and Tavros immediately smiled. 

"Oh, hi! Didn't really, recognize your real voice." 

"Yeah well. . . " The line fell silent for a second, Tavros's brow furrowing, "Buddy I've got some news." 

"News?" He repeated, taking the phone away from his ear and putting it on speaker, Gamzee resting his elbows on the back of Tavros's chair so he could lean down to hear better. 

"Two things. First off, I'm not sure I can give you that song."

"What?" Both Gamzee and Tavros spoke in unison, Gamzee following it up with, "Why the mother of fuck not?" 

"Oh, sup Gamzee," Turntech greeted, "And why the mother of fuck not is because Di-Stri quit a while back. I was hoping things would change, but I can't even call him. Daft Punk has been henceforth abolished." 

Silence filled the hallway they were in, and looking down Gamzee caught sight of Tavros looking stunned, wide eyed, and positively crushed. He had every right to be; he'd been going through extremely painful treatment, and while walking was a wonderful and perfect reward, he had been taking inspiration from the thought of working with his musical idols. Musical idols that had also stopped working together. 

"Oh," He croaked, trying to pull in a breath through his nose and hearing himself sniffle from crying earlier, "I'm so sorry, about Daft Punk." 

"Me too," The guy on the phone sighed, "But mostly I'm sorry that you're not going to get your song. You've earned a chance to make something great more than I ever have. So I've decided that the absolute _only_  suitable replacement to that great song is paying for your _entire_ college education, because let's face it, you'll make something even better with that."

Tavros actually dropped the phone, nearly fell out of his chair trying to catch it, and had to be caught at the last moment by Gamzee in less than a five second span. The screen shattering upon impact with the floor, and from the other end of the receiver both boys heard Turntech tack on,  "And I will also pay for a new phone, apparently, because I know the sound of a phone dropping when I hear it." As Gamzee bent down to scoop the piece of technology up, Tavros covered his mouth with his hands, his eyes wide. "Tav?" The speaker said again out loud, "Come on dude, I need to know if I can scratch you off of my karma list, are you alright with this replacement?" 

"I-" The laugh the came out was disbelieving and shaky, his hands sliding up to cover his eyes as Gamzee's face split into a blinding smile, "Oh my, god, are you kidding?" 

"Dude I've got so much cash I could shred the stuff and stuff my mattress with it. Trust me, this is the only replacement I can think of that's even close to what you deserve, it's not a problem and you have more than earned it. I was thinking back on when I first visited you and you said that you lost your full ride, right? Well, here's a new one, at any place you choose to go. So now I'm interested, are you gonna be able to walk onto the college campus of your choice or am I going to have to drag you?" 

Another laugh rang through the hallway as Tavros nodded, wiping at his eyes which he hadn't even realized were watering while he smiled brightly, "I think I can, manage." 

"Gamzee, do I have to pay for you too or are you gonna follow him anyways to keep an eye on this ruffian?" Turntech asked. 

"Always right behind him, brother," Gamzee assured, and Tavros was still hiding his face with the brightest smile he'd worn to date as he flopped forward in his seat, his head landing against the side of Gamzee's hip. 

"Good. When you know where you want to go, just gimme a call alright?" 

"Okay," Tavros managed to get out, and Gamzee left a goodbye on both of their parts before hanging up.

"You alright?" He asked, nudging Tavros a little in fair warning before crouching down, making himself level with his friend. Tavros was still covering his face, and Gamzee grabbed his wrists gently, pulling his hands away so he could catch Tavros's eye. 

The mohawked boy was teary eyed, but in a far nicer way than he had been not ten minutes ago. "I can go to college," He said quietly, looking up as he smiled, sniffling. Gamzee nodded in agreement, giving a grin as well before letting out a small 'oof', feeling his arms suddenly full of Tavros as his friend hugged him in a death vice. "I- I-"

Lifting his hand and patting his back, Gamzee hugged him back, giving a laugh that sounded a little constricted from the solid hold that Tavros had on him, "Oh holy shit, Tav, I thought you were motherfuckin' strengthening your legs, not your arms." 

"Don't care," Tavros sniffled with a laugh, squeezing a little tighter as Gamzee just groaned dramatically in false pain. His head flopped to the side, the shaved area falling against a large patch of purple hair as Gamzee squeezed him back. "You're really going to, follow?" 

"'Course, friend," He scoffed, before pausing, "If you want me to, I mean." 

"Well no one else is, gonna be as gentle with me, so I need all I can, get," Tavros teased, sniffling again while Gamzee just smiled into his shoulder. 

That was as good of a 'yes' as he could ask for. 

 

-

 

"Nooooo peeking!"

"How could I peek?! You took my glasses, put a blindfold on me and are covering my eyes," Jane huffed out, giggling a little as she was led down the street.

 The chorus of "Excuse me, pardon us, sorrry, sorry, watch it asshole," and "Whoops! On your left!" were pouring from Roxy as she continued to push Jane along, her fingers covering the blindfold that Jane sported. 

"I dunno, magic or something," Roxy laughed, stopping the both of them. "Alright, freeze cutie, and keep the peepers closed." 

Rolling her eyes a little but stopping in place, Jane put her hands together, wringing them slightly as Roxy began to undo the blindfold. The moment it fell away, Jane felt her red rimmed glasses slide onto her face, Roxy being the one doing it. "Ready?" Roxy asked, looping her arm with Jane and standing by her side. 

"Yup!" Jane assured, feeling her stomach tighten in anticipation. 

"Then open your eyes!" Roxy sang, bouncing up and down a little as Jane blinked against the sunlight, her eyes focusing on the sight in front of her. 

It was an empty store, a corner shop that she'd walked past before, and completely empty. "Uh, Rox?" She started, until she heard a jingling noise. Turning her head, she was met with the sight of a ring of five golden keys, all of which were being bounced on their key ring in front of her face and held by a black lipped, smirking blonde. 

It was then that realization struck. 

"Oh my god," She said, looking at Roxy, "How-"

"I never told you, but our lovely Strider babes kinda gave me a little somethin' somethin' for helping with their Homework," She winked, "And I thought that I'd give you this as a little celebration." 

"Celebration?" 

"Guess who, as of today, is an official producer with Alternia Records?" Roxy asked, brightening up even more. 

"Oh my gosh, Roxy!" Jane gave a squeal as she threw her arms around the blonde, who actually picked her up and spun her a bit as the two of them giggled. 

Jane had the fleeting thought that they must have looked ridiculous, two twenty four year old girls spinning in the middle of a semi-crowded sidewalk. And even with her usual want to respect social norms in public, she couldn't care. She only laughed harder, squeezed Roxy a little bit tighter and smiled wider.

The moment they broke apart, Roxy gave Jane a kiss on the cheek, "So! I am a super-sexy-and-successful-producer-in-the-making, you are now the cutest bakery owner in the world, and I expect the food that's going to be made here to be sold across the globe. Can I count on you to make that dream come true?" 

Jane laughed as she ran a hand through her hair, blushing brightly before her hand was grabbed. Her palm was introduced to the cool metal of the keys to her new bakery (Well, would be bakery after a little TLC), her fingers curling around them and Roxy's fingers protectively. "What should I call it?" She asked, looking up and being met with the sight of a truly happy Roxy. 

"Crocker Corp? CottonCandy Bakery?" Wrapping her arms around Jane's waist, Roxy pulled her close, booping her nose with her own, "Whatever you name it, it'll be known internationally, so you better make it classy, wonk wonk."

"Hmm, CottonCandy Bakery. That's kind of cute." 

"How about 'Lesbians and Co.?" Roxy asked, waggling her eyebrows and listening as Jane laughed, shaking her head before kissing her once. 

"So classy." 

 

-

 

"You open it." 

"No, fuck you, I didn't sign up for college," Bro said, chucking the paper at Dave. 

"But what if they said no?" Dave snapped, flicking the envelope in his hands repeatedly, "You know what they say, if it's an envelope it's a no, if it's a packet it's a yes." 

"God damn Dave, it's only the beginning of May, they'd send you your packet later, closer to the start of the next semester. All that you'd get right now is a damn envelope, now open it for fucks sake." 

Looking at the white envelope in his hands again, Dave glanced back up at Bro before flipping it over, ripping along the seal and letting the shred of paper drop to the ground the moment he got out the actual letter. 

He'd registered for college right before going to San Antonio for John's birthday, and it had only gotten back that morning. Dave knew that he couldn't hide his nerves even behind his shades, so he almost didn't bother trying. 

Almost. 

The pause before he opened it was short lived, his hands still as ever as he flicked the tri-fold open and began to read aloud. 

"Mr. Dave Strider, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to the University of Texas in San Antonio, Jesus christ holy shit-"

 "Wow, they're gettin' a little more inventive with these greetings," Bro said off handedly, watching as Dave tensed completely with an amused expression. 

His gaze snapped up to meet his brothers as his hand tightened on the letter, "I'm going to college Bro. I got into college."

"So I heard," Bro teased, Cal offering up his silent congratulations from the couch as Bro left the computer chair he'd been camped in to walk over to his little brother. 

 Dave just stood still, blinking. "Fuck. They actually accepted me." 

His brother reached over and patted his shoulder, his mouth curled up the furthest that Dave had seen (it didn't count as a smile to most, but for Bro it was a huge fucking deal) with a proud nod, "See? And here you were sweatin' like a fucking idiot."

"I wasn't sweating," Dave defended, flicking the paper up so it hit Bro in the shades, "I was expressing myself, with water droplets gathering through my skin." 

"Dumbass," Bro admonished. 

"A dumbass who's in college," Dave reminded, "Now, strife to see who buys the congratulatory dinner?" 

"You're on, little man." 

 

-

 

"Sollux." 

"Ngh."

"Sollux, you fuck wipe, wake up." 

"What the hell, Karkat?" Sollux groaned, rolling over in their bed to face his boyfriend, his eyes still closed, "It'th finalth week, what could be tho fucking important that you needed to wake me up?" 

"I. . . " When he was met with silence, Sollux cracked a heavy eye, looking at Karkat's blurred form until the blob cleared his throat again, "My parents want me to visit them this summer." 

". . . And?" 

"And you're coming with, dumbass." 

"Do I get a choithe in thith?" Sollux questioned, even as his mouth ticked up in a smirk. 

"No. You're being dragged against your fucking will. No chance of bail." 

Giving a ridiculous sigh, Sollux scooted forward, curling against Karkat as he closed his eyes again. "Great, meeting the parentth. Tho when are we getting hitched again?" 

Karkat shrugged, leaning into the contact, "When you can say your own name without lisping."

Yawning, Sollux cuddled closer, "I hate you." 

"You're the bane of my existence." 

"Wortht thing to ever happen to me." 

"I really don't know why I still live here." 

"Mutht be dethprate." 

"I took pity on your antisocial ass, nothing more." Kissing the top of Sollux's head, the grumpy one of the two wrapped his arms around his lisping counterpart. Karkat yawned before beginning to relax a bit, until Sollux spoke again. 

". . . Thith meanth we're kind of theriouth then, right?" 

Karkat actually paused at that, "This means we're really serious, dickwad, not kind of. We already live together, how did you not guess that yet?" 

"Oh." Silence again. "I thtill have money left over from my Homework paycheck, doeth thith mean I need to go butht out thome ringth and thay 'I do'?" 

"Fuck off," Karkat said as Sollux began laughing, the former pretending not to smile as he hid his mouth in Sollux's hair, "Lisping homo." 

"Crabby twink." 

"God I abhor you."

"I know." 

". . . I love you. Now shut up and go to sleep." 

"Love you too, KK."

 

-

 

"You're learning Korean?" Jake laughed over the phone, Dirk smiling a bit at the sound, "A completely new language?" 

"I have to, and I already know Japanese, so it's not like I haven't done it before. It's not that hard, but it's taking a really long fucking time," Dirk admitted, flicking down his welding helmet while continuing to speak to the BlueTooth in his ear, "I have this one client that wants me to make her a new type of interactive robot for translating, which is ironic as piss seeing as she only speaks Korean. So, I figured I had to just for the hell of it. I'm actually working on it right now, though, plus she's paying bank." 

"Sounds as ridiculous of a job as you are, chap," Jake said, and Dirk rolled his eyes, "What's the ETA on it?" 

"Three weeks?" Dirk guessed, and Jake let out a hiss through his teeth. 

"That includes sleeping and eating, right?" 

". . . Make it a month." 

More laughter. "So is my house enjoying your stay?" 

"If you're asking if I've wrecked your place yet, the answer is yes. I've destroyed it. There are holes in the walls leading to the other apartments and the hallway. People are crying as they look into the apartment and see a sad blonde dude hunched over robots while babbling to a little ear piece. It's really sad, I'm running out of tissues to give them as they cry. At this point I'll just cry with them." 

"That's exactly what I was expecting," Jake giggled, "And over here I crushed dozens of artifacts. It was capital. Smashed them to bits while everyone on the team positively wept over them." 

"Who knew I was in love with such a heartless guy?" Dirk asked, finally able to pull back his welding helmet and look down at the tablet shaped object he'd finished. 

"Everyone did, love, we were all in on it, getting you to fall for the evil foreign boy," Jake snorted. "But really, this tomb is amazing, I never thought one place could be so extensive. Even the actual sarcophagus is still hidden, but the sheer amount of artifacts is just top. I really could crush dozens and I don't think they could really care. For example: there's a cavern that has to be at least five stories tall filled with carvings of frogs." 

"Frogs?" Dirk asked, his nose scrunching up as he picked up a screw driver. 

"Frogs," Jake affirmed, "It's ridiculous, in the center is this gargantuan frog statue. The place is so old, I don't even know how it could have been carved with the detail that it has without modern tools." 

"Good to know you left me for frogs," Dirk said, earning another laugh from Jake before hearing a yawn. Looking over at his clock, he saw the time was only six PM, but in Egypt that was two in the morning. "Get some sleep, dude." 

"But," Jake yawned again, "I miss you."

Feeling his chest tighten a little bit, Dirk paused his work on the translator, allowing himself a small smile, "Miss you too. But I'll miss you even more if you die from exhaustion, go to bed." 

"Fine, fine, get rid of me why don't you," Jake huffed, but his smile was evident, "I love you." 

"Love you too, talk to you tomorrow." Leaning back in his chair, Dirk frowned as he heard Jake hang up, his stomach sinking a little. Every time he had to say goodbye it gave him the worst feeling. Spinning in his chair, he caught sight of the six sound boards, two electronic drum sets, microphone, and laptop he'd 'saved' from junk shops and electronic stores, both in the shop and from the garbage. 

No one would ever find out.

Leaning over, he pressed 'play', listening to the track that he was making in his free time begin to play. 

Part of him thought to Cronus. He doubted Dave had told him that Daft Punk had broken up, and he was thinking that they were still just 'on break' after Discovery was released a few months back. He was positive that Dave hadn't, actually, seeing as he hadn't been bombarded with calls yet. He got an occasional one, one being Kankri asking why he changed his number and the a few being Cronus, just 'Checkin' in on a friend, chief.'

Dirk hadn't had the heart to tell him yet. He couldn't even be pissed that Dave hadn't done it yet, either, because Cronus was a friend and upsetting him was something that neither of them wanted to do.

 Listening to the music around him, he almost wondered if they had enough pieces to give him one last sound track, soften the blow of Cronus discovering that his friends had ditched on working together and not even bothered to tell him for months on end.

Taking out his Bluetooth and looking at it, he put it on the table before picking up his phone, staring at it. He'd gotten a new number and phone, so he didn't have any of his old contacts besides Jake, Roxy and Jane, but he had both Dave and Bro's numbers memorized. 

He could call them. 

His finger hovered over the numbers on the keypad, pulling in a deep breath. 

He didn't call. 

 

-

 

A lot happened between January and July.

And yet Dirk still hadn't come home. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Oh, college. What a fun time in every young assholes (and in Tav and Gam's case, socially inept boos) life. Pahah, I kid. Still! I do believe that Time and I have it set up where after this there will be five chapters left! And so the countdown begins. Comments, questions, concerns? Have fanart, a headcanon, or a character aspect you want us to hear? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or Time at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com and we will definitely get back to you. Or, leave a comment in the section below! Thanks for reading lovelies!))


	34. The Game Has Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Four chapters left DUN DUN DUUUN))

"Hey, Doc Scratch!" A voice called out, causing Jake to simultaneously roll his eyes and smile. 

"I told you I resent that nickname! It was one small scritch on a random doodad, nothing bad," Jake defended to the girl who sat down a few feet behind him, wild black hair pulled into a messy black bun as she watched him brush away some dirt from what appeared to be an engraving on the wall. 

"First off, you maimed that poor chest to the point that your Grandma thought if it was scratched when this tomb was sealed originally, and seeing as you're Doctor Harley's grandson, you have to face the consequences of a fitting nick name. Doc. Scratch." 

"Still not fair, it was an infernal contraption of a box and I needed to get it open," Jake defended, shrugging, "I'll need to tell Dirk about that one, he'll get a right kick from it." 

The ravenette smiled at the mention of her friends boyfriend, "How is he doing, by the way? You said he's been really tense since he quit his last job, but he got a new one. He's happy, right?" 

"He's been creating and adjusting robotics for months now, but. . . I still don't think he's really all that happy. Whenever he seems to be, I feel as if they're pilfered from a normally bad day of his," Jake sighed, pausing to glance over at amber eyes, "I almost feel like it's my fault." 

"Your fault?" She asked, her nose scrunching up as she leaned back on her hands. 

"Well, we were working together," Jake admitted, sighing as the turned completely and sat in front of the girl, "Down in Texas, we-"

"Texas?" She interrupted, "Seriously?" 

"Yeah?" He shrugged, "Is that significant?" 

"I was staying with a few friends when I was visiting home last year in Texas!" She said, "What town?" 

"I lived in Houston, and Dirk's still there," He said, smiling a little at how much she lit up before sitting down across from her. In his mind it was time for a break anyways. 

"So close, but not what I was thinking. My buddies are in San Antonio, which is like three hours from Houston. They're in college." 

Jake paused at this. Whenever the two of them talked it was usually about things situated in Egypt, dealing with Archaeology,  or maybe for him to talk about Dirk. But the two of them had never actually talked about home, or friends and family for that matter. "What college?" 

"University of Texas in San Antonio." 

"By golly, my cousin goes there!"

"You're kidding! What's his name?" 

"John Egbert. Silly lad, same glasses as me with blue eyes." 

Aradia's hands lifted to her cheeks as she beamed, giving a small squeal. The two of them were in their own cavern of the tomb they were working on, having been paired up to clear out the hieroglyphics on the wall. "John?! Of course I know him, he's best friends with Sol and Kar!"

"You know Sollux and Karkat?" Jake asked, beginning to grin as well at the feeling of a little bit of home, leaning forward with the same suppressed excitement as a little kid sitting in front of the Christmas tree. 

"Oh my god, this is amazing!" Lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on them, she wiggled her fingers a little, "I had no idea that we knew the same people!"

"Well Sollux and Karkat are more friends with Dave, Dirk's younger brother, than with me. I just worked with them." 

"You were into coding?" She asked. 

"No, no, that's preposterous, I'm rubbish with that sort of thing," Jake shook his head, "We were working for a band." 

"Daft Punk," She said, nodding and not noticing that Jake almost flinched a the mention of the name, "Sollux had told me about it. I thought it was amazing, they're so great! And you worked with them too!"

"Uh. . . " Part of him wanted to laugh because, well; worked with them, dating one of them, and ending up breaking them up were all on his list of things he'd done with Daft Punk.

"Oh! And you said you and Dirk worked together, was he a helping hand to Daft Punk?" She asked.

"Yeah." He had to hide a grin at that, looking down at his lap where he was fiddling with his hands, "It's how Dirk and I met actually." 

"Awwww, that's so cute!" She cooed, putting her elbows on her knees, "I have no idea how you could have left! You were working with one of the biggest hits out there, with your boyfriend none the less. Sounds like a good life."

"Well working _here_ was a huge dream that I just couldn't pass up," He argued kindly, giving a small shrug, "It was a dream that I've had since I was a kid." 

"So working with Daft Punk wasn't a dream all on its own?" 

"Well, yes, of course it was! But. . . . . But this one prevailed. I've been chasing it for a load longer than that one anyways." 

"Jake, that's possibly the silliest thing you've ever said," Aradia deadpanned, shaking her head just a touch, "You know dreams can change right?" 

"Well of course I know that, I'm not a bonehead!" Rolling his eyes, he gave a huff, "But this opportunity was right friggin there! How could I pass it up?" 

"Alright, alright. I'm just saying that you can chase something you want now instead of going with what you wanted when you were younger. When I was younger I really wanted to be a mortician, it fascinated me to the ends of the earth. There was a point in time where I would have been willing to give my left leg for a chance to have that profession even if it may not seem that thrilling to anyone else. But, I ended up studying abroad and fell in love with it. I ended up coming here! If you asked me now to be a mortician, I may think about it because I grew up wanting to do that, but I'm already here. I'm set with what I have and this is enough adventure to sate my curiosity for, well, ever." 

Pushing herself to stand, Aradia brushed the dust off of her hands, "I'm not saying that you made a mistake coming here, because obviously you love what you do and Dirk seems accepting enough that you left, but I don't want you to think that your dream of staying in Texas and working with your favorite band was any less valid than wanting to come here just because you would have wanted to be here when you were way younger." Aradia reached a hand out to help him up, Jake gave a small smile, grabbing it to haul himself to his feet. "Plus, I'm sure, as great of an addition as you were, it's not like your absence isn't something they can't handle. Daft Punk is doing just fine, no matter how much the people who work for them may miss you. You're fine here, don't worry about it." 

She had no idea why Jake got so quiet after she said that. 

 

-

 

"Dirk, if you don't do it, I will," Roxy threatened, scratching an emery board over her fingernails as she sat back in her office. A large, window corner office two stories below Cronus, who happened to be why Dirk was at Alternia Records that day. 

"Rolal, chill," Dirk sighed, sitting back in his seat across from her. When she'd been promoted, she'd been allowed to get her own office, which she'd decorated to the nines with all the shit she could cram in there. In a classy way, somehow, but the bursts of pink and black with silver compliments were very Roxy. "I'm here to tell him that our six month hiatus has turned into a permanent one, okay? I just thought I should talk to you first, seeing as I haven't seen you in forever." 

"I'm doubting it's because I'm the best conversation partner in this building," She snarked with a familiar grin, "Because somethin's telling me that award goes to a little, snappy brunette on the thirteenth floor." 

"Kankri is fun to listen to, not to talk to. To talk to him that would involve me being able to get a word in." Smirking a little, Dirk looked down at his hands before his expression fell again, "It's weird that this is the last time I'm going to be here." 

"Eh, it's not really your last time," Roxy assured, causing him to look back up at her and meeting her gaze with tinted plastic, "Seeing as you're breaking your contract so early and because you didn't have a lawyer present the first time you signed stuff, which was _stupid_ ," She looked at him pointedly with narrow eyes, "the fee for breaking your contract is going to be through the roof. Cro's a nice honey and all, but he's gotta do his job and the moment you tell him all this shit, his job is going to be to get this company's money out of what you guys _would_  have made. Meaning you and that cutie of a lawyer of yours are gonna be here a lot." 

"Oh shit." Dirk hadn't even thought about it. He'd known that there would be a fee of sorts, but he'd just totally blanked when he'd decided to quit Daft Punk that they'd actually have to face them. 

Even worse, Dave was going to be the one paying for it, seeing as he had all of the money. And Dirk had done that as a giant 'fuck you' to the idea of Daft Punk, and now it was the only thing they could use to cover the dying bands funeral expenses.

"How much do you think the cancellation fee will be?" 

"A few million, at least."

"Dave's going to stab me through the chest with a katana and I won't even stop him, fuck. I didn't even think about this." 

"Well, I have a client coming in in about seven minutes, sweetie, so you've gotta think about this as you get your flat ass upstairs and talk to your soon-to-be ex employer." Pushing her chair away from her desk, Roxy stood before walking around, grabbing Dirk's hand and hauling him to stand as he gave a falsely pained expression from having to leave. It was quickly changed to one of surprise, however, as she wrapped him up in a hug, squeezing him tightly, "Call more. And come over more. Both you and Dave. Preferably together." Pulling back, the black lipped smile she gave was soft, "We miss you boys, Jane and I both. Jake told me you two haven't talked since the trial, which instead of hugging you I should be slapping you for, but still." Patting his shoulder once, she looped arms with him, beginning to walk towards the door. 

"His fault for being such an asshole," Dirk chuckled, walking in time with Roxy and feeling her swat lovingly at his shoulder with her free hand.

"Oh he was being a brother. It's his job to get under your skin, but it's your job to scratch him out and move on. Right now? You're letting him fester like a gross little parasite and taking things to heart." Opening the office door, she unlinked their arms before holding the door for him, "Now get your handsome face out of my office and go break my boss's heart!"

"Comforting, Roxy." 

"Did I ever say it was supposed to be?" Winking at him, her grin was large as she shut the door, leaving Dirk in the hallway leading to the elevator. 

It was with heavy feet and a grim expression that he dragged himself towards it, knowing that the conversation he was about to have was going to be long, painful and loud. 

The elevator moved slowly when he was trapped in it. It's like it knew.

 By the time the doors slid open and Dirk looked into the lobby, a familiar face lifted from behind the desk, the paper it was originally turned towards forgotten as Kankri broke into a large smile. "Dirk, wonderful to see you! Six months is an impressive amount of time away, I must say, but it's good to see that you're back. Cronus is in his office at the moment, I don't believe he's on the phone and he's not with a client so feel free to enter when you please." 

 "Nice to see you too Kankri," Dirk greeted, stopping just outside of the elevator and hearing it close behind him, "And sure. I'll go in soon." 

 After two minutes, Kankri looked up again, this time with a raised eyebrow. 

 Dirk was still standing in place right in front of the elevator, looking at Cronus's door. 

 "Dirk?" 

No response.

"Dirk Strider?" 

Nothing. 

"Dirk!" Slapping his hands together and startling Dirk out of his reverie, Kankri gave a small huff, "I do apologize for startling you, that was rude of me and could have caused you to feel uncomfortable or a multitude of different but equally negative emotions, but you've been looking at a glass door and refusing to walk forward for several minutes now. Are you alright?" 

"Perfect," Dirk scoffed, swallowing, "Yeah I'm fine, just.. . . " 

"Just?" Kankri pushed lightly, tipping his head a touch to the left. 

Dirk couldn't do it. There was no way that he could go into that room, look Cronus in the eye- No, scratch that. There was no way that he could go into that room, look a _friend_ in the eye, and tell him what he'd done out of an emotional fit due to Jake leaving. His feet wouldn't move, his tongue would turn to ash in his mouth, he'd lose his voice and his fingers would tangle together so he couldn't even write it down. There was just no way it was happening. He couldn't force Dave to pay for his fuck up after throwing the bank account in his face with a 'fuck you' attitude, and he couldn't come back from a six month break only to say 'Sorry dude, shit's over'.

 "Just tell Cronus that I'll have my half of the album sent to him by tomorrow," Dirk spewed out, slamming the button right behind him blindly and hearing the cables whir as it dropped the elevator to the floor he was on. He continued to look at Cronus's door and keeping a calm expression.

This seemed to take the assistant by surprise, his eyes going wide as he blinked a few times. "You two are already halfway through another album?" Kankri asked, looking completely startled, "I thought you were on a break from creating at the moment." 

"Yeah that was kind of short lived," Dirk lied, hitting the button just a little harder and watching as his friends face grew more and more concerned. 

"Speaking of 'you two', where is Dave?" Kankri questioned quietly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Dirk with a hint of suspicion. 

"At the house," Dirk lied easily. Well, it didn't have to be a lie. There was a big chance that Dave was sitting at the old apartment doing god knows what, "He didn't feel like coming I guess, which isn't unusual, he's kind of a dumb ass hermit."

The moment the curse left his mouth, Dirk nearly winced. He didn't swear in front of Kankri out of respect, and judging by the baffled face in front of him, Kankri had noticed.

"Dirk, are you sure you're alright? Maybe you should sit down, I could get you a water if you'd like, you seem a bit off," Kankri offered, beginning to stand before the elevator doors opened, Dirk practically shooting into the contraption as the man in a suit to his left just looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Thanks but no thanks. Later," Dirk said with an overzealous thumbs up that was completely unlike him, causing Kankri's face to scrunch in utter confusion as Dirk pressed the button for the ground floor, right before pressing the button to force the doors closed. 

As Kankri watched the numbers above the elevator go down, he scratched at the back of his head before shaking it. Something was off about Dirk, it was obvious to anyone, and horrendously obvious to the assistant on duty. 

Unfortunately for the blonde, Kankri wasn't about to leave the issue be. Straightening his bright red button down, Kankri walked over to Cronus's office before knocking once, poking his head in, "Am I intruding?" 

"Not at all, babe," Cronus assured, not looking up from the paper that he was reading with narrowed eyes behind his glasses as he waved a hand, inviting Kankri in, "Just tryin' to make heads or tails of Meenah's lawyer. This Arenea chick is insanely strict." 

"Ms. Serket is known for her strong minded policies," Kankri agreed, before walking over to step in front of Cronus's desk, "Dirk Strider was just here." 

"Really?" Cronus asked, looking up, "Is he out in the lobby, o-"

"He had to leave for reasons unknown, he was acting extremely strange," Kankri admitted, frowning, "But he did tell me that he would be giving half of their next album tomorrow." 

"What?" Cronus looked confused as he slipped his glasses off, leaning back in his chair, "Since wh-"

"Actually," Kankri thought for a moment, frowning as he framed his chin and jaw in thought, "If I remember correctly he said he would provide 'his half' of the album by tomorrow."

"His half?" Cronus parroted, "What the hell is that suppose'to mean? They work together." 

"Something is definitely happening between the Striders, and I am nearly positive it is not good," the brunette continued, "I think you should call Dave, try to ease in by asking when 'his' half will be finished. Maybe it will lend to new information," Kankri suggested. 

"Good thinkin'," Cronus admonished, plucking up his phone, "Stay here for a second, would ya chief? In case I need some more information about how Dirk was acting."

 

-

 

"And can you repeat what he said again?" Dave asked calmly, his eyes blazing and burning holes into the steering wheel of his car as he waited to get through the traffic he was stuck in. 

"He told us he'd give his half of the album by tomorrow. That leads to a few questions on my part: First, where's your half, second, why are there halves, third what took you two so long to contact us again, and fourth, why did he run outta here with his tail between his legs?" 

Dave opened his mouth to actually answer all of these points, but instead clenched his teeth, feeling his anger flare. "Cronus I'm going to have to call you back."

"Are you actually gonna call back?" Cronus deadpanned. 

"Hey, we had a good night together, but it just wasn't magical. I'll call you if I really felt like we clicked," Dave joked even as he slammed on the gas, turning the wheel harshly and pulling a highly illegal U-turn through a turning lane as what sounded like dozens of cars honked at him. 

Giving a snort, Cronus gave a goodbye of, "Fine you little shit, call me back when you can," before hanging up. 

Traffic was a bitch, but as Dave managed to fit his car between some Green chevy and a silver Taurus, he was at least facing the right way. The 'right way' being the direction for Jake's old apartment. 

 

-

 

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" Dirk asked himself quietly, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. 

No one was supposed to know that he was still making music. Shit, he hadn't even told Jake. It was supposed to just be his horrible burden of a secret because he was the asshole who let a well known band fall to shit and then continued to make music for it. It was never supposed to come to light. He was supposed to ignore Dave for two years, wait for Jake to get back, get rich in the robotics business and live a good life. 

And now he was here, stuck in this situation due to himself. 

What the fuck  _was_ wrong with him? 

Part of him answered, "You panicked, dumbass," but he ignored it. What else could he do? Actually, he could try to finish the album and give it to Cronus before Dave had a chance to hear about it from Kankri. 

Which was fucking stupid, because Dave would wake up one day and hear that Daft Punk had released another album and show up to kill him. 

Giving a low groan, Dirk fell back against the bed, sighing. He'd managed to get back to his apartment with ease, thanks to the car that Dave had provided him with at Christmas, but now he was stuck. All he'd been doing for the past twenty minutes was stressing and pacing because he was a god damned idiot. 

He'd fucked himself over. Horribly. Either he needed to go and tell Cronus the truth right then, or he'd have to face Dave after quitting their band and promising more music for the same band to their boss. Both sounded terrible, but one more so than the other. 

"Alright," He muttered to himself, sitting up. "Alright I can do this." Nodding a few times, he managed to slide to his feet, cracking his knuckles and mentally preparing himself to face his producer. "After this, I can finally focus on robotics, it'll be fine," he promised himself, because fuck, he was going to have to drive all the way back to Alternia Records after acting like a huge coward.

Making his way through the apartment, he took in a deep breath, getting his best poker face on and slipping on his shoes.

He was a split second away from opening the front door when it swung open, almost catching him offguard as a blur of blonde and red shot into him.

Dirk's back met the floor with a loud 'thunk' with Dave's knee pinning him by the stomach, the wind getting knocked out of him as a fist met his cheek. Of course even in his stunned state his right hand hooked upwards, punching Dave directly in the ear and causing him to exclaim in pain before retaliating and lifting up his knee, slamming it back down onto Dirk's stomach. 

Do you know how hard it is to curl up in pain when you've got your little brother sitting on you? 

"Fucker, get off," Dirk managed to gasp out as he fought for air, but not before Dave slapped him once across the face, enough to hit his glasses askew.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" He snapped, looking down at this brother as he held a hand to his injured ear.

Dave was forced to lose his authoritative stance, however, when Dirk rammed his leg up to hit Dave in the spine painfully, causing him to slump and get shoved off of Dirk. 

"What the fuck is _my_  problem?" The older responded in turn, scrambling away from Dave who was cradling his injured ear as he began to touch his cheek. It was bleeding a bit, which made him more angry, "What the fuck is your problem? You can't just burst into my house and try _and_ fail to kick the shit out of me." 

"I don't have a problem, this is about you. You, the biggest fucking cunt this side of the asteroid belt," Dave snarled angrily, wearing his emotions on his sleeve, "First, you quit the band, which I allowed without a problem. Then you move out without a single god damn warning. Next, you run away from the trial that was being held against our brother on the grounds that he abducted us, you don't pick up the fucking phone for _six_ months, and then you have the gall to tell our fucking producer that you're providing your 'half' of our next album?" Scrambling to his feet, Dave charged forward again, but this time Dirk was ready. 

On the defense, he met Dave's run with an arm to his stomach, using his own momentum against him and slamming him backwards against the floor. Lucky for Dave, he landed on his side, hurting but not winding him. Dave managed to kick his foot out, meeting Dirk's ankle and hitting it out from under him, sending him off balance. 

So when Dirk knew he was going to fall, he made sure he fell directly on Dave, hitting his elbow into his ribs and causing Dave to reach up and grab a handful of Dirk's hair, pulling it painfully. 

An elbow hit Dave's mouth, and Dave bit Dirk's arm childishly and hard as he continued to pull at his hair like a kid throwing a tantrum.

 "Knock it off!" Dirk got out, catching Dave's wrist and pinning it under his knee as he towered over his brother, "I panicked, I couldn't tell him that I'd given up on Daft Punk. I was going to go tell him now, but-"

"No," Dave said immediately, his teeth a bit red from the blood that had been spilled when he was elbowed, "because you had half of an album that you were going to give up." 

"Maybe I was bluffing," Dirk challenged, until a foot met the center of his chest and he was shoved backwards. 

"You weren't, you piece of shit," Dave assured, pushing himself to stand with a groan. Rolling his shoulders, he glared at Dirk, "You've been working on a new album." 

"Fuck you, I have not."

"Really?" Dave asked, glancing towards the the hallway and watching as Dirk tensed a little. 

The flash stepping that proceeded would have made Bro proud, but mostly on Dirk's part. Dave had almost reached the door when a hand hit the area between Dave's shoulder and neck, causing him to swing around on instinct and hit Dirk's ribs in turn. 

"Fuck- Dirk, let me go!" Dave thrashed a bit as Dirk's hand tangled in his tee shirt, trying to haul him back to the living room. Dave could almost reach the door handle, his fingers stretching to it as he was nearly getting choked by his shirt collar. 

"No, get the fuck away from my room." The way he said it was just so brotherly that Dave almost felt the need to gag, a hand reaching up and digging his nails into the back of Dirk's hand. 

It was startling enough for him to slacken his grip minutely, Dave wrestling just a little closer to the door until he was flat out tackled by Dirk on the grounds that he had gotten too close to his bedroom. 

"Would you sto- FUCK," Dirk cussed. He'd managed to pin Dave down, but in turn Dave had slammed his head back, meeting Dirk's nose head on and yup it was bleeding. So, being the mature brother that he was, he slammed his forehead against the back of Dave's head, hearing Dave swear as well when his nose met the cold floor, hard. 

The two of them struggled until Dave could get a hand free, reaching blindly behind him and swatting at Dirk until it was annoying enough that Dirk accidentally shifted. When he did, Dave managed to slide out from under him just a bit, both hands going to swatting at Dirk while Dirk returned the motion. 

Dave had gotten to his feet by the time Dirk had realized the slapping had just been a distraction, and he tried to tackle his brother again to keep him away from the door. 

In doing this, he hit them both into the door, knocking it open instantly. 

Both of them fell in with straining lungs, Dave looking around wildly before getting a shit eating grin while Dirk just covered his face. 

They'd fallen through the door right next to three tables in a 'U' shape, similar to the one that Dave had been using, filled with familiar boards and knobs. 

"You actual piece of shit," Dave said, wiping at his bloody nose with the back of his hand, "You may as well have just rented out a fucking sound booth." 

"Fuck off and get out of my house," Dirk huffed, pressing his palm to his own nose in an attempt to stint the blood flow. 

"Not a chance," Dave assured, grimacing as he stood before offering out his unbloodied hand in surrender. 

Dirk  glared at it for a moment in distrust, but reached up with his own free hand and took it, letting himself be hauled to his feet. 

Both of them were quiet as they cleaned up. Dave wiped off the blood before taking the easy route and just stuffing two tufts of tissue up his nose while Dirk held a wad dampened with water to his nostrils. Both of them had bruised ribs and backs, Dave having cut gums and a split lip with Dirk sporting a bright purple cheek that had a cut in it and a small bump on his forehead of where he'd hit it into the back of Dave's head. 

Each looked like a right mess.

Dave was sitting on the closed toilet lid as Dirk dabbed at the cut with witch Hazel, not even flinching. 

"Why did you keep playing?" Dave asked, touching at his nose and pretending not to wince. 

Dirk shrugged, which earned him a glare, "I felt like it," He said. 

"You missed it," Dave corrected, thanking John for his shades when a wad of wet tissue met the plastic and protected his eye from Dirk's throw.

"I. . . " His mouth fell shut while Dave threw the wet tissue away, wiping at his shades, "I may have." 

"But you didn't miss us enough to give us a call huh?" Tisking his tongue, Dave shook his head, "Dude  you've missed a lot. Bro's pretty much become a say at home Mom for me. I think he may be getting Empty Next Syndrome seeing as you're gone and I'm leaving, bu-"

"You're leaving?" Dirk asked, glancing at his brother quickly. 

"I got accepted into college." 

"What kind of backwoods institution could your sorry ass make it into?" 

"One with standards," Dave volleyed back, "And that's rich coming from the self employed robo-man."

"Seriously, where?" 

"University of Texas in San Antonio," Dave said, "I'd be going to school with John and my friends." 

"Under?"

"Photography." 

"And that makes you happy?" 

 The silence that ensued was tense. "It wasn't my first plan, but it'll do."

Dave cleared his throat when Dirk didn't respond, instead carrying a new thread of conversation, "How many songs do you have done?" 

"Four," Dirk admitted. By this point his cheek was clean enough, but he still continued to dab at it, refusing to make eye contact with Dave. It was hard to take him seriously with two bloody tufts of paper sticking out of his face anyways. 

". . . . I've made five." 

"What?" This did elicit a head turn from him, meeting the sight of his younger brother avoiding looking at him. 

"I. . . Fuck dude, the house is boring. I didn't realize how much time Daft Punk actually took up until it was gone. Jesus Christ, I have no fucking clue what we used to do to amuse ourselves but it just isn't working anymore. So I started fixing up the samples we'd already made. Some of them could use improvement, but I was never expecting anyone to hear them, so." 

"And why do you think they're going to hear them now?" Dirk asked cautiously. 

"I want you to honestly say without a shred of doubt that you don't miss that band," Dave challenged, "I want you to tell me that you don't want to release another album. I want you to tell me that you're looking forward to breaking our contract and letting down millions of people who listen to our music." 

"I would, but I'm afraid you'd start crying," Dirk scoffed. 

"If you did that I would know that at least you're an honest dick instead of a lying asshole," Dave corrected. "Now tell me, can you say any of that with even a little bit of truth behind it?" 

The room was quiet.

"No? That's why I think people are going to hear this again."

In the silence, the ball of Dirk's hand made a 'thunk' as it hit the porcelain basin of the sink.

". . . I'm not moving back in." 

"Well I'm moving out anyways," Dave pointed out, "remember? San Antonio?"

"And I'm still going to be working on my robotics," Dirk bargained without having to even say what they were bargaining over. 

"You can sleep with the things for all I care," Dave assured, trying to squash down the feeling of hope in his chest. 

"Do you still have your helmet or did you throw it out the window after I left?" Dirk asked, watching as Dave removed the tissues from his nose. 

"It's the only thing with good enough sound quality to create in," Dave lied, knowing Dirk could see right through it, "Do you have yours or did you chuck it in a dumpster when you broke both of your bro's hearts?" 

"Nah, had to keep it, it's a really useful paperweight for my blueprints." Both of them looked at each other for a moment.

"I hope you know I'm still probably going to bitch about you having left a lot, right?" 

"I know. And I hope you know you're going to clean up the blood that got on my floor from you barging in here like the shit you are, right?" 

"I know."

Both held blank expressions before Dave lifted a fist, this time not in anger but as an offering.

Dirk bump his own fist against it before Dave's mouth ticked into a smile. "Welcome back, Di-Stri."

Giving a long forlorn sigh, Dirk hung his head, "Good to be back, Turntech."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Aww look at the stupid idiots that I adore, beating the crap out of each other. Still, what can I possibly put in those four chapters if Daft Punk is reunited?  
> A lot. A lot is what I can put in those four chapters let me tell you something.  
> Anyways! Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or message Time at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com and I promise we will get back to you! Thanks for reading lovelies!!))


	35. The Game Of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Three chapters left. I just want to apologize right now for how long this took to update! There are no excuses, I was out of line. But a lot can happen in three chapters, watch out there friends ^^))

"I can't believe I'm, in San Antonio," Tavros said softly, sounding a little out of breath at the sheer amount he'd been walking on his crutches. His wheelchair was being pushed beside him by a lanky individual with a painted face and a relaxed smile, yet its contents were just a few basic items that were going in their dorm while thousands of students mulled around them.

"Ouch motherfucker, what am I, chopped liver?" Gamzee questioned teasingly, before scrunching up his nose, "Wow, that shit sounds nasty, nevermind." 

"I can't believe  _we_  are in San Antonio," Tavros corrected, looking over at his friend with an extremely honest smile as he continued to take careful steps on his crutches. 

The school that he'd ended up choosing was good for both him and Gamzee, seeing as it had excellent arts program and a rather well rated course on the childcare industry, Gamzee's field of interest. It was the same one that he'd originally had a scholarship to, making the choice easy and quick.

For reasons unknown to Tavros, Turntech had been oddly happy sounding when he told him his school of choice. He hadn't expected the man paying for his college education to be so excited about where he was going, but he was just as happy so he wasn't about to complain. Besides paying for his education, Turntech also paid for a plane ride down to San Antonio, and for movers to help with both Gamzee and Tavros's luggage being moved into their dorm. 

The day was 'Moving Day', which took place on a Friday, three days before classes actually started in the butt end of August. All the people who were just moving into their dorms were now dying of heat stroke and exhaustion as they climbed the ridiculous amount of steps up to their rooms, luggage in hand and knowing that they'd need to take several more trips just to pack into the sardine tins they dare called rooms. 

Tavros had been given a handi-capable room that was far larger and easier to maneuver in, considering that he couldn't walk for long periods yet and would still be in his wheelchair often enough. And, through special request and stating that he was 'an assistant' , Tavros got Gamzee as his roommate. Their room was ground level, and due to the movers, the two of them had a chance to actually look around a bit while their room was filled with their belongings. 

First place first; The art ward. 

"You sure you're alright there brother?" Gamzee asked, looking cautious and a little worried as Tavros swayed a little in his walking along the sidewalk, future students and visitors parting to let the both of them through. 

"Yeah! Just, bruising under the arms, is all." The crutches that he had didn't have much padding, by Vriska's insistence. He needed 'more of a push' to keep walking on his own, seeing as his physical trainer was no longer going to see him anymore and could only control so much from Virginia. 

His goodbye with Vriska had involved him walking into his PT room without his crutches, on Gamzee's suggestion. Tavros could do it, but it did take strength and was fairly draining. However it was more than worth the look of pride she wore, a strong handshake being enough to make her smile before hugging the kid that she'd actually grown fond of. Gamzee had given a half-hearted wave, but not before she threatened to claw through his skin if he let Tavros A: stay in his wheelchair or B: get injured from pushing himself too hard. 

While they disliked each other, they could at least agree on the terms that they both cared about Tavros, making their conversations at least have some worth besides Gamzee deadpanning and Vriska spitting insults. 

And so Gamzee made sure to keep a keen eye out, trusting Tavros but also knowing that Vriska would hear about it if he did mess up. No matter how much he hated her, he knew she'd stay true to her word with her threats. 

"Do you wanna add some?" Gamzee began to offered up before stopping. His eyes narrowed as he looked ahead of them, a blonde stranger in shades apparently just. . . . staring at the two of them. Leaning over to Tavros a bit, Gamzee raised an eyebrow, "You see that motherfucker?" 

Nodding, Tavros had to readjust his crutches, frowning a bit, "Why's he, looking at us like that?" 

"Well he's wearin' sunglasses and shit, we can't even be all up and sure that he's starin'." 

"Still, it seems like he, is. Plus he's kind of, faced towards us."

"Should we motherfuckin' ask him what's goin' on?" 

"I. . . I don't know," Tavros admitted, shuffling a touch in place. His knees felt like they were on fire and his thighs and calves were burning, causing him to wince, "But I think I, may need my chair."

Gamzee didn't need to be told twice, but instead took the bag that they had resting in it and set it out, wrapping an arm around Tavros's waist and leading him to sit as his crutches were propped against the wheechair. Just as he was about to actually get off of his feet, however, a voice broke out, startling and interrupting them both, "That's not a part of the deal."

Frowning, Gamzee lifted his eyes to meet a pair of tinted plastic shades in front of him, immediately getting a defensive and sour expression. By his side, Tavros leaned heavily on him, looking stunned that the blond stranger from earlier had approached them, let alone spoke to them. 

"Can I motherfuckin' help you?" Gamzee asked, his voice getting that same frigid tone that it did every time he talked to Vriska. He took a small step with covering Tavros defensively, his friend peering out at the shaded blonde.

"Well I told you that you'd have to walk onto the college campus yourself," The stranger said, the words ringing a bell with both boys, "And judging by the way you're sliding in to that chair I'm not so sure that counts as walking." 

"Oh holy shit," Gamzee muttered, his head tipping a little as his expression turned curious, "Turntech?"

"Let's keep this on the casual side, Dave is fine. Nice to see that you're keeping him safe," Dave commented, nodding towards Tavros and causing both boys to blush, Gamzee's being hidden under face paint. "And I was kidding, sit down man don't strain yourself." 

Tavros nodded dumbly before allowing Gamzee to help him slide into his chair, adjusting himself to sit comfortably before looking back up at him, "What are you doing here?" Tavros asked, looking honestly surprised. 

"Going to college," Dave reasoned, shrugging. 

"Whoa hold the fuck up, how old are you?" Gamzee asked, his cold demeanor now warm and inviting with a large smile, "I thought you had to be up in your motherfuckin' thirties or somethin'." 

"Twenty one," Dave clarified, "A little old to start, but I was kinda busy up until now, if I do say so myself."

Tavros actually laughed at that before pausing, and frowning, "Right. I'm sorry to hear about, D-"

"Don't be," Dave interrupted immediately, "Because I've got some news on that front. It's kind of the reason that I had to pull a Freddie Kruger and watch you for a second to make sure that you guys weren't in the middle of anything important." 

Clearing his throat a little, Dave reached into the messenger bag that he was carrying, pulling out a flash drive and passing it off to Gamzee, seeing as he was a little closer. "We kind of quit the whole 'not being a band' thing last month. This isn't getting released until Dirk finishes editing it, but-"

"Dirk?" Tavros asked.

"Di-Stri, he's my brother," He clarified, continuing, "But here's the rough draft of the next album. We hoped it would give you some inspiration to write the song that you're singing with us." 

Both Tavros and Gamzee stilled, looking up at Dave with raised eyebrows. "Oh did I not mention?" He asked with fake innocence, batting his eyes behind his shades, "It won't be finished for a long ass time, but we were thinking about one last album before our contract is up. A good final 'shebang'. Would you still be interested in a track of your own?" 

"Dave I can't," Tavros insisted, his mouth hanging open as he shook his head lightly, "You can't pay for my college, and then, do something like that." 

"I want to," Dave shrugged, "That's what friends do. Now come on, are you in?" 

"I-"

"He is," Gamzee sounded, causing Tavros to look up at his friend in surprise while Dave gave the smallest of smiles. 

"Good.  Now I've gotta go bug a dork that I haven't seen since summer started, I'll see you around campus. Welcome to UTSA." Nodding at them, his hands returned to his pockets and Dave walked away, carrying a sense of ease with him comfortably. 

"Gamzee-!" Tavros hissed, batting at Gamzee's hand the moment Dave was out of earshot. 

"Yeah?" Gamzee asked, looking down and smiling a little. 

"You can't just-"

"You can't pass up that kind of opportunity brother," Gamzee said, catching Tavros's hand when he batted at the clowns again with no malice behind it. Tavros couldn't offer any argument, but did blush a bit more as Gamzee slipped the flash drive into Tavros's hand, squeezing his fingers before letting go and grabbing the bag from the ground, setting it on Tavros's lap and picking up his crutches. "So, art ward?" 

"Uhh-" Blinking, Tavros cleared his throat before nodding, "Yeah." 

 

-

 

"It's so nice to be back!" Jade squealed she flopped against the couch in the living room, kicking her feet a little as Rose offered a fond smile, "Spending time with my Grandpa is fun, but this place is  _way_  more relaxed." 

"Seeing as our walls are not lined with firearms, I think I can agree," Rose hummed, walking over to sit down in a wingbacked chair she'd brought from home years ago, crossing her ankles, "But I must say, as much as I care for my mother, she is rather exhausting." 

"What about you John? Happy to be back from the clutches of Dadbert?" Jade asked, popping up to look at John, who was leaning against the kitchen counter and looking at his phone with a frown. The moment he heard mention of his name, his head popped up, the smile he offered almost a little forced. 

"Kind of! Like, I missed my Dad, but spending an entire summer away from all of my friends kind of sucked." Sticking out his tongue, he gave a small shrug, looking back at his phone. 

"Waiting on a call?" Rose questioned, leaning forward a bit as she arched a well shaped eyebrow. 

"I-" Scoffing, John waved a hand and gave a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I just thought Dave would have called by now! I haven't seen him since May seeing as I was in Washington, and we usually talk every day. I just thought he would have called before my classes started is all." 

"Well see John the magical thing about phones is they work both ways," Jade said, smiling, "You call him! Maybe he's just busy, I'm sure he'd love to talk to you!"

Frowning for a second more, John nodded, "You're right. You're right! I'm being silly." Typing in Dave's number, John gave a soft scoff as he lifted his phone to his ear, "I'm just being ridiculous, I'm sure he-"

"John," A voice greeted near immediately, "Hey babe, what's up?"

"Hi Dave!" John ignored the dual look that Jade and Rose supplied, instead beginning to pace the kitchen a little, "Just wanted to say hi! I'm finally back in San Antonio, which is great."

"Well I actually dropped something off for you when I was passing through yesterday," Dave said, causing John to perk up. 

"You what? Really? Why were you in San Antonio?" 

"Had to grab some shit for Bro from this store downtown there," Dave dismissed easily, "But none of you guys were home so I left it at Karkat and Sollux's." 

John didn't even wait to make his way to the door, slipping through and all but bounding through the hall, past all of the people just beginning to drag their belongings in, "What is it? Is it a gift or is it a note? How big is it? Will I see it right away?" 

"Jesus Christ dude calm down," Dave chuckled, "Just tel me when you get there and I'll point you to where I left it."

"Psh, laaame," John accused, hopping over a box that one of the new students had left in the middle of the hallway and finally reaching Karkat and Sollux's door. "Alright, I'm outside of their place, what now?" 

"Now turn to your left," Dave instructed, causing John's nose to scrunch up in confusion. 

"Should I open the door and go in first?" John questioned. 

"No, turn to your left," Dave instructed again, "And go down the hall."

John followed the instructions, actually frowning as he weaved his way between a few people, "Dave what's going on?" 

"Tell me when you reach the end of the hall," Dave ordered instead of answering. There was silence between the two of them for about thirty more seconds before John broke it. 

"Okaaaaaaay, now can you tell me what's going on?" 

"Open the door you're in front of," Dave said, and John went wide eyed. 

"Dave! I'm not just busting into some random dude's apartment!"

Speak of the devil, the door in front of him began to open, causing John to step back a little bit in surprise and duck his head. Great, he was going to be found standing in front of this poor strangers door with a phone to his ear and a dippy look to his face. "'Busting in' is kind of a strong term," A voice began, "I'd say you're more 'invited'." 

Snapping his head up, John met the sight of the one and only Dave Strider, standing there with those damn shades and a phone to his ear. 

He wasn't standing for long, John tackling him in a way that they were both long since accustomed to. Thankfully Dave broke the fall this his right shoulder and elbow, which had built up a bit of a resistance to the pain after years of strifing and learning to land. "You're at my college!" John said happily, pressing random kisses across his face, "In my building!"

"Well yeah, That was the plan," Dave huffed out, his hands going to John's back. Both of their legs were still dangling out of the doorway, and they probably looked ridiculous to all the people passing by. "Do you know how much this room costs to rent out completely?" 

"Not anything you can't afford," John snarked, kissing Dave once as the blonde beneath him chuckled.

"And they say love doesn't come with a price tag," The blonde sighed, his head falling against the floor with a 'thunk', "But you know I wouldn't mind paying for it if it wasn't so damn lonely." 

John paused at this, looking down, "Lonely?" 

"I have this entire apartment to myself, and even if I'm a freshman I'd really love a mature roommate. I don't know, maybe someone who's been to this college for a few years, who can show me the ropes." Sighing dramatically, his fingers curled in the back of John's shirt, "If only I knew someone like that." 

". . . Dave, are you asking me to be your roommate?" 

"You gathered that much by yourself, did ya?" Dave said, raising his eyebrows, "But yeah. That was my way of asking."

"I-" John was actually surprised. He'd thought Dave had left him a gift, he wasn't expecting him to offer up something like this.

"You don't have to choose right now," Dave promised, "But as persuasion on my part, can I take you out to breakfast?"

Giving a laugh, John dropped his forehead to Dave's, "You've owed me breakfast for over a year now." 

"Well then isn't it overdue?"

"You're a dork."

"Nerd."

John blew a raspberry. 

"Is that a yes then?" The blonde asked. 

"Yes, but we have to go back and grab my shoes, I was expecting to walk down the hall and come right back," John said, sliding off of Dave before grabbing his hand, hauling him to his feet. He didn't let go, however, and Dave couldn't bring himself to even think about complaining as he locked their fingers together.

Stepping out of the apartment and closing it behind them, John thought of something with a frown, "Wait. How can you attend college? Won't p-" Glancing around a bit, he ducked a little closer to Dave, speaking in a hushed tone, "Won't paparazzi and stuff follow you?" 

"TZ took care of the whole deal with my college sign up. She made sure that it was locked up tight, so the only way that someone could look me up and know I was here was if God himself came down from the skies and fucking told them. Plus, people don't really associate 'Strider' with Daft Punk anymore. That rumor died down seeing as it was met with no evidence, and posted from the blog of some college going hipster. As far as I'm concerned I'm in the clear." 

"So we won't have to sneak you around under coats and paper bags while covering your face behind news papers?" John snorted, bumping into Dave a little bit. 

"Nah man, we're all good," Dave promised, "Dirk and I both. Although I think Bro's getting Empty Nest Syndrome, seriously he's called me more in one day than he ever has in my lifetime. Plus apparently he actually went and  _visited_  Dirk." 

"Wow," John whistled out, "That is weird. So how is Dirk?"

"No kidding it's weird. And Dirk's fine. He's gonna be working his ass off on this album. It's not our best work, but it has a lot of of meaning behind it I guess. A lot of the songs needed to be adjusted, so while he's working on that and his robotic shit, I'll be here trying to get an education."

"Trying?" 

"And failing. We'll have parties and shit every night, the floor with be alight with drunk idiots. It'll be my magnum opus of all of my legacies, my ability to party hard." 

Laughing at that, John led Dave around a mound of things being moved into the room they were passing, "I'm sure that'll go over great with the neighbors." 

"I don't know, it sounds pretty rad," Dave scoffed, "But fine, fine, no wild parties," He pulled John sidelong into him, smiling a little as John had to stifle a squawk, "Just breakfast." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((When I say a lot can happen I mean a /lot/ can happen. Like. For real. So stay tuned, and I promise from the very depths of my soul, the next update will not take even CLOSE to this long. Like, a day or two at most. Anyways! Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or message Time at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com . Thanks for reading!!))


	36. Robot Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters left woo  
> This is another crazy co-op chapter, so enjoy! ^^

Dave and John both agreed, the breakfast was well worth the year long wait. John had been to the cafe they visited countless times before, to the point where he knew the staff, and even one of the baristas by name.

“Rose and I come here every Tuesday,” he explained when everyone immediately said hello upon his entrance,  “If your drink is made by Megan, you know it’ll be amazing! She’s our regular barista.”

The blonde ordered an iced coffee with his food and couldn’t help but agree that Megan the barista was a godsend.

It was a wonderful hour and a half of deliciously fresh food and well-awaited conversation. The two held hands almost the entire time, until one of them had to struggle with silverware or mess with their napkins. Their server apparently knew John as well, and kept looking over Dave as if he was some gang member who had courted his child without his blessing. It was actually quite endearing. The guy warmed up to Dave eventually, when he saw how happy John was and noticed the small smiles they exchanged when they thought he wasn’t close enough to see them.

The two walked out of the cafe hand in hand, Their server (Dave couldn’t remember his name, but he’d ask John later) and Megan waving them goodbye as they left. The sunlight warmed their faces almost instantly, contrasting greatly from the air-conditioned interior of the restaurant. John winced a little as the light hit his eyes. Dave snickered, earning a smack on the arm.

“What? It ‘aint my fault you have eye problems and can’t wear sunglasses.”

“Isn’t the entire reason you wear sunglasses because you have eye problems?” John laughed, sticking out his tongue, “Double standard!”

Rolling his eyes, he argued back, “It isn’t double standard if-”

Dave stopped talking, causing John to look away from the street that they were walking on and at his boyfriend.

From what he could tell, Dave had cut his sentence short upon catching sight of somebody in the crowd ahead of them.

Somebody who owned a certain blog that leaked photos of unmasked robots.

“What the _fuck_ is he doing here?” the blonde growled just loud enough for John to hear, causing his boyfriend’s brow to furrow.

“Who?” John asked, but it was ignored, instead Dave dropping John’s hand and sprinting ahead.

John’s eyes widened dramatically at how fast Dave ran off before snapping out of his reverie, coming to his senses. “Dave, wait!” John began to run after him, not nearly fast enough, hoping to stop him before he did something stupid.

He was a bit too late for that.

-

Of course. The one time Eridan finally got out of his god forsaken hotel room on this visit, he was tackled by some insufferable prick.

Feferi was going to visit her sister and wanted somebody to come with her, and naturally it just _had_ to be Eridan. He griped through most of the trip, staying in the hotel and updating his blog while keeping his eyes glued to Youtube and Twitter, all while living off of shitty hotel coffee as Fef spent time with Meenah. And, much to Fef’s dismay, he was perfectly content to stay there.

That was, of course, until Fef bribed him with better coffee.

In his current situation, Eridan was pinned by the weight of someone who had to be an absolute idiot to tackle him in the middle of the street. Feferi, and whoever had been standing with the guy now settled on Eridan’s stomach, were a fair distance away, sharing confused looks with one another before looking back at the men on the ground. The coffee (that he was enjoying quite a bit, thank you very much) was spilled across the sidewalk, and had gotten dangerously close to Eridan’s hair.

“Dave, what the hell?” The buck-toothed guy yelled at the attacker. ‘Dave’ didn’t reply, instead focusing all of his attention on Eridan.

“You. Hipster trash.”

“Excuse me, asshole, w-what did I evver do to you?”

The blonde slid his sunglasses down, meeting Eridan’s gaze angrily with familiar eyes and an extremely pissed expression.  

“...W-well, shit.”

“Shit is right. You made life pretty damn hard for my brother and I,” Dave shifted and dug his elbow into the hipster’s throat, making the man sputter.

Off to the side, John shuffled on his feet, unsure of what to do while his hands clenched at his sides. “Dave, stop, there are people around…”

“Oh, so it’s totally fine to beat me up w-when nobody is around, eh? W-hat is this, some kinda linchin?”

“Do you want it to be, asshole?” Dave growled.

“W-well if you would fuckin get off of me we can settle this like men-”

He was silenced with a slap to the face. John flinched, closing his eyes for a second. Eridan tried lashing out at that, but was still effectively pinned under Dave’s weight. The two looked as if they were about to start wrestling right there until Feferi intervened, trying to push them away from each other forcefully. She looked up at John, who looked as if he needed more motivation to separate the two all while wearing a guilty expression.

“Think you can help pull your friend off of mine?” she asked wryly. The two on the ground were still glaring at one another, Eridan almost baring his teeth. John finally relented and pried Dave off of the other man carefully, making sure not to hurt his boyfriend even as Dave kicked his foot out to try and hit Eridan one last time. Feferi helped Eridan up as well, slinging one of his arms around her shoulders as he caught his breath.

“What the shell just happened?” she asked, bewildered as her gaze snapped between the two of them.

“I have to take legal precautions everywhere I go thanks to this douchebag,” Dave spat, shaking his head angrily and trying to take a step forward. Luckily, he was stopped by John, who received a thankful look from Feferi. The crowd that had once surrounded them was already disappated, leaving them a wide margin of space to sort their shit.

“Sorry, it’s a touchy subject,” John added, giving an apologetic look,  “Maybe we can sort this somewhere less...public?”

Feferi nodded hastily. “Gladly!”

-

“I said sorry,” Eridan said, leaning back in the chair of the cafe that Dave and John had left not too long ago. They’d come back to have a ‘civil discussion’, that was currently almost entirely silence and harsh glaring.

“Oh well that makes everything better, sorry for wasting your time,” Dave snarked, only to get his ear tugged on by John.

“You’v-ve been a w-waste of my time since I first laid eyes on you in your shitty tin suit,” Eridan snapped, his own ear getting a sharp pull from Feferi.

“I think this is actually a good thing,” Feferi said, earning confused looks from all three boys before elaborating, turning to Eridan, “I told you all that time ago to not post pictures, and here you are getting payment for it.” It was then that she gave a shy glance at Dave before offering a small smile, “But if I can say, I really love your work.”

Dave actually softened up at that, giving a small nod, “Thanks.”

“Fef, stop flirtin’ and help me!” Eridan almost pouted, “ He assaulted me.”

“Flirting?” John asked, raising a teasing eyebrow at Dave and getting a ‘Right now, seriously?’ stare in return before chuckling. Turning towards Feferi, he offered a hand, “Since these two know each other and are probably going to be talking a lot, we should too! I’m John Egbert.”

“Feferi Peixes,” She introduced, giving a bright smile.

“Peixes? As in, related to Meenah Peixes?” John asked, getting a thrilled expression.

“She’s my sister!” Fef said, getting a proud look at John put both of his hands to his cheeks, his mouth hung open in a ridiculous smile.

“She’s amazing!”

“Are you joking right now? You’re hanging out with T-” Her voice dropped a little, glancing around before continuing with a large grin, “You’re hanging out with _Turntech_. From _Daft Punk_.”

“I was on a date with Turntech, actually, before he ended it early by tackling your friend,” John snorted, which made Fef laugh, “But you’re related to Meenah! How do you not think that’s just the coolest thing ever?”

“Ugh, I grew up with her, trust me she’s nothing special,” The girl sighed jokingly, waving a hand.

“Are you serious,” Both Eridan and Dave deadpanned in unison to their friends, but they were ignored as Fef and John began getting into a conversation. Turning towards each other, each of them raised a matching eyebrow before Dave leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I knew-w I w-was right,” Eridan stated after a moment, causing Dave to glare, “I knew-w you w-were the performers.”

“Congrats, do you want a signature or to nearly ruin my career?”

“I w-want an apology for gettin’ my brother to punch me in the face.”

Dave had to hide a smug smile, coughing into his hand and earning a dirty look from Eridan before he was able to play off his usual pokerface, “He punched you?”

“Durin’ family dinner,” Eridan said, ignoring the humor in it. Dave didn’t, and accidentally smirked again.

“I heard it. A little, over the phone,” Dave admitted, “I think I wanted to get the phrase ‘Photosnatchin’ little shit’ tattooed across my chest after that.”

“Yeah, w-whatev-ver,” Eridan said in a semi-moody tone, ducking his head.

“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for having a point. You nearly wrecked both my career and your brothers with those handy dandy photography skills you’ve got there.”

“I didn’t know-w he w-was w-workin’ w-with you,” He defended immediately, “Otherw-wise I nevver-”

“Oh, so it’s okay to post pictures of people who had made it clear that they never wanted to be outed, as long as it doesn’t fuck up the career of someone you care about?” Dave responded sarcastically. Thankfully, Eridan had enough shame to look guilty. “You shouldn’t have done it on the principle that doing so would out people who’d worked really fucking hard not to be outed.”

Eridan managed to make eye contact, but he was pink in the cheeks from what Dave could only hope was shame. Off to the side, John was laughing as Feferi gave a giggle, covering her mouth with her fingertips. At least this conversation wasn’t a new form of torture for them like it was for Dave and Eridan. “I. . . I apologize,” Eridan managed to say in the least douchiest way that Dave had heard until that point, “I w-was outta line, fine, I’ll admit it.”

“Next time you want to post shit like that to get famous on the internet, fucking don’t,” Dave deadpanned, “You’re lucky that there are a billion other people out there that say that they know who Daft Punk is and post pictures of random people all the time. In fact, those people are who saved my skin.”

“W-why hide?” Eridan asked, actually sounding interested even as the expression he wore was still full of spite.

“Because I don’t have to explain shit,” Dave said with arching an eyebrow, “And you aren’t in any place to be asking me why I keep my shit private.”

“Fair enough,” Eridan sighed, rolling his eyes. a quick glance made it obvious that Feferi and John weren’t going to shut up for a long time, and glancing back at Dave, Eridan twisted his fingers together awkwardly before nodding in the direction of the coffee bar, “Coffee?”

“You’re paying,” Dave said, standing as Eridan just glared.

- 

“So, you’re there? Everything turned out okay? No drugs or murder or any of that shit?”

“Bro, I’ve only been here for a couple days. There hasn’t been any time for that to happen.”

“So what you’re saying is that there is a possibility of all that happening?”

Dave could almost hear his big brother’s muscles tense over the phone.

“You big baby. I’m fine. Everything is great so far. All of my friends are here, my classes are at reasonable times, and I’m not doing drugs. Or killing people.”

“Hey now, watch yourself. If you go around callin’ me things like that, you’ll have your ass handed to you on your next break.” There was a beat of silence. “You are coming back for break, right?”

“Oh my god, Bro.”

“It’s a legitimate question,” the older one defended, his voice crackling through the receiver. “You could’ve been planning to chill in San Antonio or maybe even go up to Washington with John and meet his dad or something…”

Dave cracked a grin. “You know, I’m sure if you walked over to that therapist office downtown, they’d have some pamphlet for you on empty nest syndrome.”

“You little shit, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Sure you are. How clean is the house, now?”

“Spotless. Nothing else to do in this fuckin’ giant penthouse.”

“Mhmm. And I bet the neighbors all know you by name now too, considering you’ve probably asked them for sugar for your little cookies.”

“God damn, it was a one time thing,” he mumbled, making Dave chuckle. “Are you absolutely sure everything is good over there?”

“Yeah. The course work is pretty damn cumbersome, but it’s not like I wasn’t expecting that beforehand. I can manage,” Dave replied with a small sigh, hoping Bro wouldn’t catch the hint of fatigue in his voice.

Bro noticed, but didn’t say anything about it. “Well…” he started, like a concerned parent (at this point, he pretty much was one). “Just call me if you ever need help, alright?”

As annoying as it could get at times, Dave knew that Bro had the best intentions.

“Can do, Bro. Tell Dirk I said sup.”

“Next time he visits, I will. Talk to you later, little man.”

“Yeah.”

Dave hang up first, feeling both warm and a bit bad for leaving Bro all by himself. But hey, Bro was strong. He’d live.

-

“No, fuck you.”

“Come on dude, this is a really great opportunity for you. And not like that pyramid scheme crap, this shit is actually a really great chance for you to spread your wings and make fucking bank.”

“I’m not working for your god damned circus,” Karkat spat again, glaring at Dave with a completely unamused expression as Dave sat next to him in the mess hall of their college campus. It was comparable to a food court, several different things to eat and, much to Karkat’s dismay, one eating area. He’d been having a perfectly fine lunch with just himself before being bombarded by an idiotic blonde that didn’t seem to understand that he was wholly not interested in working with Daft Punk.

Ever since Dave had started school with them a month ago, Karkat had found him to be increasingly more frustrating than when he was only seeing him once every few months. He’d never admit that Dave was even slightly amusing, ever, so instead the two of them played off of a banter that would have made people with tongues dipped in silver jealous.

It was good.

Why was it that everything good needed to be ruined.

The whole reason that this was ruined was because during a walk to a nearby restaurant to get some food, Dave began bitching like a five year old to John, Sollux and Karkat about how Dirk wouldn’t get off his back about finding a new manager.

And then Sollux felt the need to open his big fat mouth and say, “Well KK ith great at management. He uthed to basically teach our coding clath in our freshman year whenever the profethor was sick, which was a fucking lot. He thet out lethons like a fucking champ, pluth when it’th for thomething theriouth he doethn’t totally fucking thuck at talking to people. And wait, ithn’t your brother the perthon handling all their emailth and thtuff right now? He’d probably be willing to hand off any information a lot eathier than if it wath thome thranger. Hell if needed he could probably teach you what you don’t know.”

And much to Dave’s fucking delight and Karkat’s utter disdain, Sollux had made several good points. Fantastic.

Since then, Dave was always on him.

They’d be walking to class and suddenly, “So do you wanna be our manager yet?”

And it was always a variation of “No.”

“No.”

“No, fuck that.”

“No fuck you.”

“Strider, I said no, and I swear to god if you ask me one more time I will shove my fist so far down your throat I can control your legs and make them walk away from me.”

“Holy shit I think you must be blind as well as deaf do you not know what no means?”

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST NO AND IF I HAVE TO TELL YOU AGAIN I WILL SET YOU ON FIRE.”

That last gem had been said in the middle of a very crowded campus, and yet Dave had  continued to bug him.

God he was an asshole.

And yet here he was, again, sitting across from Karkat, having the audacity to eat his fries as he bugged the fucking shit out of him.

“You’ll get paid,” Dave offered.

“No.”

“Come on.”

“Oh, wow, suddenly you’ve convinced me.” Setting down his burger, he looked at Dave with a comically innocent expression, “I’ve seen that I was wrong to say no, suddenly that ‘come on’ has really changed how I feel about being a manager to a band that I don’t even listen to. Thank god you are so fucking convincing. Have you ever thought of being a pacifist during any war? I’m sure you could convince them too, with your intricately woven arguments and your killer ability to not act like an absolute fuck.”

“. . . . So is that a yes?”

“NO DICKBAG.”

-

“I am the brainwasher…”

“Sure you are, buddy.”

Dirk had let Sawtooth run for a while as he worked on the next album. Sawtooth was a more recent model than Squarewave, but hadn’t been turned on as often as the older model. Most of the reasoning was behind this was because Squarewave had more glitches to fix than Sawtooth did.  When fully charged, Sawtooth functioned smoothly and seamlessly, busting out into rhymes as advanced as mechanically possible in this day and age. Which is to say, he was really fucking good at rapping.

It had been a while since Dirk had let the robot run for a long period of time like this, and he could tell that Sawtooth would need some charging soon. It was times like these that the robot would start spouting nonsense. When he walked back into the room after starting some water in Jake’s kettle on the lowest possible temperature to give him some time (the coffee machine had broken a while back, leaving Dirk to try and find more creative ways to get his caffeine fix), Sawtooth greeted him with that odd statement, like he had all evening. What did it mean? Dirk had absolutely no idea.

He sat back down, fiddling with the current track’s components some more. He only had the initial melody so far, which he had decided would loop throughout the entire track. It lacked something, though. The orange eyed man leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to find what he obviously needed to make the track the best it could be. His thoughts wandered when the situation became seemingly hopeless.

Jake hadn’t called in a while. Was he too tired? Dirk certainly hoped that was the case. A small part of him, so small that it shouldn’t have been listened to or given any validity, was afraid that Jake had finally given up on their long-distance relationship. He worried his lip at it for only a split second before mentally waving it off. It was a stupid thought, right? Shit, he sure hoped the doofus was just sleeping more. It had been so long since he’d left. It almost felt like he never existed. The only proof he had that his boyfriend was real was the house he was currently living in, and even that wasn’t strong enough proof for him.

A sigh escaped Dirk suddenly, the weight on his chest doubling. No matter how many robots he surrounded himself with, he still couldn’t find it in himself to not be lonely.

“I a-a-a-m-m the bra-a-a-in washe-e-e-e-e-e-r-r-r-r-r-r-r…” Sawtooth droned, his battery starting to burn out. Something about the lag in his voice was very choppy. Very raw.

Very fitting with the melody in the background.

“...What was that, Sawtooth?”

“I-i-i a-a-a-a-a-m the bra-a-i-i-n wa-ashe-e-e-e-e-e-r-r-r-r…”

Dirk snapped his fingers in time with the realization of how good it sounded snapped in his mind, a triumphant grin on his face, “Perfect. Now let’s get you plugged in so I can get that recorded.”

About twenty minutes and four different samples of Sawtooth’s nonsense later, and Dirk was ready to finish another track. Now he only had one more song to finish up before starting on some more. Just as he stopped the track to program in the new samples, he heard the kettle screaming from the stovetop.

As inspired as he felt at that moment, Dirk wasn’t sure he needed any more coffee from the steam machine.

...Steam machine.

He smirked to himself.

“Dirk Strider, you are on a roll tonight.”

-

“200,000.”

“No.”

“300,000.”

“No.”

“500,000 annually, assured bonuses, with a 100,000 sign on bonus to start,” Dave deadpanned, stopping as they paused in front of Karkat’s apartment. He’d spotted him on his way home, and of course thought he should ask again. And again. And again.

Putting a hand on his door and ducking his head as he gave himself a moment to seethe, Karkat put a hand on the door he was desperate to get through, before looking up at Dave. “You’ve been at this since September.”

“So?”

“It’s October and I fucking give up.”

“Give up as in. . . ?”

“I want my sign on bonus by tomorrow,” Karkat said, watching as Dave’s expression shifted from total poker face to something that resembled quelled excitement, “And I also want a list of all of your music, in process or not, previous concerts, your old contacts used to for setting up gigs and anyone that you have had previous connections with. I’ll need to ask Kankri for the stats on your record sales and when I’ll figure out exactly how high your public demand is, I’ll talk to you about setting up another concert because let’s face it, you probably need a new one. You haven’t had once since that one prick tried to out you guys, at least to my knowledge. Give me your brother’s phone number and I’ll set shit up with him too.” Getting the key into the lock of his door, he gave Dave an annoyed expression, “Now would you ever so kindly fuck off for a week?”

“You’ve got it boss,” Dave said with a dramatic wink, disappearing down the hallway to his own apartment as Karkat just sighed deeply.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” He groaned loudly the moment he got into the apartment, and from his shared bedroom he could hear shuffling before Sollux’s head popped out.

“Thomething wrong?”

“Yeah, you and your inability to shut the fuck up,” Karkat said, with no fire behind his words, “I broke. I’m a weak link, I shattered, god motherfucking damn it.”

“Broke?”

“I agreed to be that stupid bands fucking manager.”

“KK that’th great! We both know you’d do a great job.”

“So here, let me just do a great job while also jamming in my fucking _college classes_ ,” Karkat reminded, pulling out his phone.

From 200 miles away, Kankri Vantas heard his personal phone ring, frowning. It was 7 in the evening, and he was already at home. Usually the only person who’d call him this late would be Cronus, but-

“Who is it?” Cronus asked from the bathroom, where he was currently brushing his teeth.

Looking at the caller ID, Kankri gave a small smile, “Karkat.”

“Great, is he gonna try and kill me through the phone?” Cronus popped his head out of the bathroom wearing an unamused expression, a little bit of toothpaste foam at the corner of his mouth.

During Karkat’s summer break, their father had invited Karkat and Kankri home for a family dinner with their parents, and had urged them to bring their significant others. Of course both brought theirs, resulting in a more fortunate meeting for Cronus and Sollux and a less fortunate one for Cronus and Karkat.

Their father was a kind man, who was obviously accepting to a high degree, but he did not argue with Karkat’s threats of what would happen to Cronus if he hurt Kankri as much as he should have, much to Kankri and their mother’s chargin.

To say that Cronus and Karkat didn’t currently get along would be a bit of an understatement.

“Hush,” Kankri chided, reaching up and wiping the foam from Cro’s mouth with a fond smile, “He’s simply protective.”

“Not the word I’d use for it,” Cronus mumbled, but Kankri elected to ignore him in lieu of answering the phone.

“Karkat, what do I owe the pleasure of this call to?”

“To the fact that Dave Strider is a dick,” Was scoffed from the other end, causing Kankri’s eyes to narrow.

“Karkat, Dave is a dear friend, and I refuse to have you speak of him that way. That termonology c-”

“We are not doing this right now,” Karkat cut off immediately, “For fuck’s sake, just act like my brother instead of an automatic ‘I’m so fucking sorry if he offended you, or me, or anyone within earshot’ responder. I’m Daft Punk’s new manager, an-”

“You’re what?” Kankri asked, both of his eyebrows being raised highly as Cronus offered a confused expression, currently gargling mouthwash.

“You fucking heard me,” Karkat  said, “Now I need you to forward me all the information I’ll need between sales numbers and contact information. And, seeing as you’re my brother, you’re going to have to help me with shit I may have trouble with.”

“Karkat this is great,” Kankri said, smiling a bit, “With you as standing manager of Daft Punk, I-”

From the bathroom, the sound of sputtering and coughing was sounded before Cronus popped out again, wide eyed, “Please tell me I just heard that wrong, babe. Please.”

“One moment,” He excused before pressing the phone to his chest, muting it for Karkat before talking to Cronus, “What’s wrong with it? I’ll talk to his most of the time so you won’t have to, and plus he’d thrive with this kind of job, one that will completely pay off his college education. I have yet to see a flaw.”

All that he heard in response was a loud groan, which put a smile on his face. “Just make sure he knows how much to fuckin’ bite off, because I’m not helpin’ him when he chokes.”

“Language!”

-

Three days later, and Karkat had never felt so miserable in his entire life.

First, he needed to sort out the absolute mess of severed ties that the band had experienced when Dirk had suddenly quit. So, to make things easier and as his own form of punishment, Karkat actually made Dirk come down to San Antonio to talk through everything, much to the older Strider’s dismay.

The talk that proceeded took roughly six hours, three yelling matches, Dirk crashing at Dave’s apartment and Karkat threatening to post pictures of them on every billboard along the East Coast if they didn’t take his damn advice.

First things first, they needed to get back into popularity, meaning: Concerts. Either several small ones or one big shebang.

“What are we supposed to play? We’ve already played most of our music from Discovery to the public before it debuted, but it was smaller gigs that that happened at,” Dirk argued.

“You’re playing that album that you’re turning into Cronus soon,” Karkat ordered. It was appreciated by Dave and loathed by Dirk, but Karkat didn’t ask. He ordered, period.

“When?”

“The day it’s released.”

“Are you fucking insane?” Dirk asked, “Cronus estimated releasing it in less than a month due to when is good for our sponsors and what’s already been advertised.”

“And?” Karkat asked, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

“To finish the album, fix everything, set up a playlist, book a location, and advertise it is an insane amount to do in a month.”

“Look, I have a lot of people that I’ve contacted since I was hired, which in three days is a fucking surprising amount of pissed off clients, and if you want to keep them and not fall down the fucking shitter, then you’ll do what I say. Your best bet for keeping these clients is getting booked somewhere massive and playing for a crowd. To your clients, I can offer deals on tickets, front row seats, several things to soothe the wounds that _you_ ,” He pointed at Dirk, “supplied them with when you fucked off to a dingy apartment. Understood?”

Dirk pretended not to wince at the truthful accusation, but instead waved a hand, “Dude, that still doesn’t change the fact that that’s an insane amount to get through.”

“I can help,” Dave offered, “Maybe that can lessen the workload.”

“Why the fuck not,” Karkat agreed, nodding, “I’ll accept that. Now based on your playlists that you guys have at the ready, you’re going to need a few new songs, ones never heard before.”

“We’ve already been over this, the entirety of Human After All-”

“I’m meaning newer than that.” Karkat looked between them, “You need fresh material. Fresh material that has been worked on with you by another artist.”

“What?” Both Striders questioned in unison.

“You’ve got a lot of people vying to work with you,” Karkat pointed out, “And working with others will get you a lot of fucking brownie points. Look at that Meenah chick you guys took sound snippets from. She’s popular world wide.”

“So are we,” Dave pointed out.

“But she did it all from co-oping, and she’s got a lot more hits than you do,” Karkat pointed out, “You could get tons of hits around the globe by just pairing up with the right artists. Even better, if you can introduce a new one to the scene.”

“What makes you say that?”

“If you can get an album done with someone well known, and someone new, that new asshole has a lot better of a chance of getting recognized. Plus, once he gets recognized, your album gains credibility.”

“How the fuck do you know any of this will work?” Dirk challenged.

“I know how the world works and my brother has been in this business for ten years, you don’t think I know what I’m talking about?” Karkat deadpanned, “Now there are a lot of options for people to work with, and I can make a few calls and _maybe_ get an artist of your choice, but-”

“We already have our new artist,” Dave said, which caused Karkat to frown a little.

“How the fuck do you already have someone picked out?”

“A friend of ours who goes here, we owe him a favor. If we’ve got a month, I think I can get him ready with a song.”

“Sounds good, but now you need someone famous.”

“Uh. . . “ Scratching the back of his head, Dave gave a huff, “Uh.”

“Wow, sounds like a fucking amazing artist, Uh Uh, where is he from, Dave Striders Asshole, where you pull most of the bullshit you spew out?”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.”

“Look, don’t give yourself a damn aneurysm, I’ll figure someone out. But for now, we need to set up an order of songs, and get in contact with your ‘friend’ who’s singing with you.”

“Alright, fine,” Dirk sighed, “So have we decided on a venue?”

“I have, but it’s going to take a metric fuck ton of sweet talking, money, and talking to my brothers boyfriend, which is already torture in and of itself.”

“Where, Karkat?”

“You two are playing at Madison Square Garden.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, that's a popular place :3 Anyways! Comments, questions, concerns? Message Hammer at burnieplease.tumblr.com or message Time at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com /or/ leave a question below and we will get back to you! Thanks for reading dolls ^^


	37. Solar Sailor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I am so. Flippin. Sorry. That space was inexcusable, we totally pulled a Hussie, that was a sad hiatus and both of us feel really really really really really really bad. There was just a looooooot going on! So, because we have a huuuuge last chapter (it was 12,000+) we split it up, so now there will be two after this. Again, I'm so sorry for the wait, and I've gotten more than a few messages asking when we are updating, (Shout out to SignlessSadness because bb i am so sorry you were so diligent and I didn't offer up shit take this as a sincere apology i love your face). That will never happen again. Ever. No more waiting that long for updates, scouts honor on Hammers part. So, without further ado, here's some writing!))

Dragging his feet as he walked down the hallway, Karkat gave a small sigh, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. At that moment it was only ten a.m., and he’d already been awake for five hours after getting a twenty minute power nap.

He hadn’t thought it was possible to despise the Striders more than he already did.

He was so wrong.

It turns out that managing a multimillion dollar band is much more difficult than you’d be led to believe. First off, getting through all of their old contacts was about as time consuming as it gets. Karkat had spent countless hours just getting their available sources, and that was before even checking to make sure that they were still of any use.

Next there was finances, which thankfully Kankri had offered some assistance on. Being the anal retentive asshole that he was, he kept track of everything he thought Jake wasn’t paying enough attention to, which was, well, everything. Even if he fought with him, Karkat really did have to offer some begrudging respect to his brothers dedicated work ethic.

The final nail in the coffin that he’d carved himself was just getting everything together. Kankri swore that Cronus had an old friend that was performing at Madison Square Gardens and would actually want Daft Punk to open for him. While this was great news, this was also a death sentence for the college student, because Kankri held it over his head like a rain cloud and made sure that Karkat was going to earn working with this performer. When he asked why the fuck he was getting tortured for it, Kankri just said that he shouldn’t make promises that he wasn’t sure he could keep.

God he hated it when his brother was right.

So, getting everything together was the final step. This meant; setting up a designated time for the well known performer that he still had no fucking clue the identity of, setting up lighting, selling tickets, advertisement, setting up a time for the lesser known performer that he was currently on his way to see, and also getting his performers primped, fluffy tailed and ready.

Why the fuck was he doing this to himself? 

“Five hundred thousand,” He muttered to himself as he knocked on the door in front of him. Looking a bit closer, he noticed that it was far wider than most dorm doors, and also that there was a little blue sign with a white stick figure sitting in a wheelchair right below the dorm number. He knocked as he looked, his tired mind still not catching up with what he was seeing fully. Eyes narrowing, Karkat looked a bit closer before it clicked. “Wait a fucking second-”

While he was still looking at the ‘Handi-Capable’ panel, the door opened, revealing an exhausted looking, multi-colored and droopy eyed giant. “Sup, motherfucker?”

“What,” Karkat deadpanned, looking up and making eye contact. The guy didn’t look like he needed a handi-capable room, causing Karkat’s confusion to grow.

“You’re the one who all up and knocked on my motherfuckin’ door,” the stranger pointed out with a tired smile, “So brother, how can I be of service to you?”

“What the actual fuck are you even saying,” Karkat said, but was just met with an innocent eyebrow raise. Letting out a small growl, he ran a hand through his hair, “Alright, nevermind, you’re Tavros, right?”

“Aww hell no, he’s in here,” The gentle giant smiled, nodding into the dorm, “I’m Gamzee Makara, pleased to make your acquaintance brother.” The smile he gave was damn near dopey, and his eyes were actually bloodshot.

“Dude it’s ten in the fucking morning, are you high?” Karkat asked with honest curiosity, but was ushered into the room by Gamzee none the less. His question was never answered, and the sight that he ended up seeing was enough to make him want to crawl into that coffin he’d built for himself and just die.

“Need help Tavbro?” Gamzee asked in a tone that was far different than the one he’d used to answer the door. It was more cautious, and actually had concern in it.

“I’m, good,” Tavros assured, managing to slide into his wheelchair from his bed by himself. Looking up, he saw Karkat and offered a smile and small wave. “Hey. Who are, you?”

The kid was in a wheelchair.

He had a slight stutter, or a better description would be a pausing lilt.

He was the performer that Dave and Dirk had requested.

This was Karkat’s worst nightmare.

“I’m Karkat Vantas,” He said, refraining from giving a deep chested sigh. He was going to have to make everything backstage wheelchair accessible, work on regulations, go over safety procedures for having an injured person within work space areas, let alone performing- “I’m Daft Punk’s manager.”

“Oh!” Tavros seemed to perk up a bit at that, “Did Dave send you?”

“Both of the Striders did,” Karkat clarified, glancing down at Tavros’s chair before looking back at the guy himself. He seemed nice enough, but fuck this was going to make everything so much more difficult, “They have a concert coming up, and they want you to perform.”

“Me?” Tavros asked, actually looking a little surprised.

“Yeah, they told me that they had total faith in you, so here I am like a holy messenger to pass back what you say.”

Tavros smiled a little at that, dropping his head just a touch before looking back up. “Well I could, do that. When is it?”

“Two months from now,” Karkat said.

“Is it in, Texas?”

“It’s in New York.”

“New York,” Tavros whistled, raising his eyebrows.

“Madison Square Garden, specifically,” Karkat threw in, watching as this kid froze completely.

“Madison Squa-” Covering his mouth with his fingertips, Tavros blinked a few times before shaking his head, “That’s a, uh, big location.”

“And you’re performing there,” Karkat said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I-” His brow furrowed as he looked down, and it was then that Gamzee flung an arm around Karkat’s shoulder, talking to Tavros.

“It’ll be great, brother. You’ll strut your stuff while this brother and I cheer you on. You'll kick up a motherfuckin' storm with your voice.”

For a second Karkat didn’t even think about coming up with a way to say, “Fuck that entire sentence” in a more insulting way, but instead got caught on Gamzee’s wording.

“Will I have to dance?” Tavros asked, getting a cautious expression as he looked at Karkat.

“Uh-”

“I think you can just pace the stage, best friend,” Gamzee assured with a dismissive flick of the wrist, obviously fighting back a yawn.

“But what if I get cold feet?” Tavros questioned, his face scrunching nervously as he twiddled his thumbs.

“You’d have to motherfuckin’ step it up, then. Kick those thoughts to the curb man.”

"Kinda sounds like, a lot of footwork."

"Take it step by step, friend," Gamzee advised. 

Karkat had no words.

After about three seconds, both Gamzee and Tavros look at each other before they burst out laughing, Gamzee putting an arm around Karkat's shoulder and hanging on him as Tavros doubling over in his chair.

Karkat could only blink, his mind too overused and exhausted to catch the joke.

“What.”

“Dave told us, to mess with you. It was too perfect to pass, up,” Tavros chuckled, clearing his throat. With a deep inhale, he pushed himself to stand, his legs a little shaky at first before he stepped forward, “He told us you, look into everything too much, and had already told us about New York. Seemed like a, fun time, throwing a wheelchair into the mix.”

As it finally dawned on him upon being pointed out, he gave a disbelieving headshake, “You guys are all fucking assholes." And yet, there was no malice as he looked at Tavros standing in front of him, but respect and only a touch of his usual annoyance. Reaching out, he shook Tavros’s hand before lifting his hand to blindly shake Gamzee’s as well, getting a fist bump in return.

“I can’t stay like this, all night," He admitted, shuffling a bit in place with a wince, "but I can give you twenty, minutes,” Tavros offered up, getting a nod from Karkat as he stood tall.

Between the clown hanging off of his shoulder and the kid standing in front of him, Karkat gave a relieved breath.

These were the type of assholes he could get used to.

“I’ll take it.”

 

-

 

“Maryam residence.”

“Kanaya, do you still do that sewing thing with Porrim?”

“No Karkat, I do not. In fact, we have taken to making sports equipment instead,” she stated, her voice sounding serious, but he could still hear a hint of a giggle over the phone which caused him to roll his eyes.

“This isn’t the time for half-hearted sarcasm, Kanaya, This is a potential business call that I’m being forced to make,” the short tempered man retorted, his phone in one hand and Kankri’s coffee in the other as he made his way to the Alternia Records office. His only day free of classes, and Kankri called in his 'You're my slave forever now #Mentions of Servitude #Implications of unwilling workers #Implications of impossible sentences' card. Meaning Karkat had to drag himself out of bed, even while Sollux yelled at him for getting up an hour after he'd gone to bed, and get Kankri's favorite drink on his way to his office to get the information about meeting the artist that Dave and Dirk were pairing up with, that Cronus was 'oh so close of friends' with. 

He was in no mood for games, and cut Kanaya off as he heard her take in a breath to interrupt him, “And before you smother me with how proud you are of me of even acquiring a job that requires me to make business calls to you, let me explain the situation; I’m managing a band, and that band consists of two dipshits that wear robot helmets and leather jackets to every gig.” Karkat could almost hear the cringe in the ‘okay’ she offered when he paused to hit the elevator button. “The next gig they have booked is in Madison Square Garden, and they will melt into a puddle of ultimate pain and suffering if they wear those leather death traps in the light setup we have planned, and I’m not cleaning that shit up.”

There was some shuffling around on the receiver as Kanaya went in search of her sister. Karkat ascended to the office’s floor, tapping his foot impatiently while holding the coffee away from himself. After another moment and some muffled conversation, he heard Porrim ask, “How much would we get paid?”

“I’m on my way to talk to Kankri about that, seeing as he managed to get us into the Gardens and made me, his loyal co-worker and loving brother, his ever loving bitch.  I have to run everything by him, I think he’s expecting me to fuck up on this, which seeing as he’s dating that Ampora dumbass who fucks up everything, is hilarious. But if I can talk him into it, expect somewhere around three or four grand,” Even through his rambling, he had faith in Kanaya that the message would get relayed. The elevator door opened with a ping, and Karkat strode in, setting the coffee none-too-gentle onto the desk in front of his brother, who was reading. A drop of the beverage spilled onto Kankri’s current page, making him hiss out the beginning of a scold. Karkat hushed him, jabbing a finger at his phone as a way of shutting him up, and only succeeded in making the older Vantas rolled his eyes.

“How many outfits would be needed?” Kanaya asked, sounding a little more serious than before. That caused Karkat to smirk, seeing as she’d probably thought he’d been joking the entire time.

“Knowing them? One.”

“...You’re paying us four grand for two outfits?”

“Yeah, is there a problem?”

“That is the exact opposite of a problem.”

“So you’ll do it then?”

“Well, I’ll need to consult Porrim...”

Fuck, there was that damn teasing tone again, and even worse Kankri’s phone went off at that moment, obviously a text from one of the Maryams. It was obvious based off of the fact that Kankri glared at his younger brother, sitting up a bit more, “When did we ever agree on paying costuming four thousand dollars?”

“Just now,” Karkat countered, before going back to Kanaya, “And we both know she’d do it for half that, don’t fucking play with this or so help me I will sew this shit myself.”

“Last time you tried to sew you ended up sewing the pillowcase closed five different times,” Kanaya countered. Karkat could hear Porrim snicker.

“I was fourteen and stuck in Home Ec!”

“It still counts, dear,” Porrim chimed in.

Kankri raised an eyebrow when his phone went off again, but his expression softened. Maybe it was that douchebag in the other room, asking him out for a god damn milkshake like the John Travolta wannabe he was. Karkat glared at him, crossing his arms.

“What did he text you this time? Johnny Cash lyrics? No wait, I got it. He literally just texted the word ‘grease’ to you.”

“That was actually the worst excuse of an insult you've come up with as of yet, Karkat.”

“What? Grease is the word that you heard, asslamp. It’s got mood, it’s got meaning.”

“Excuse me, but would you like us to hang up so that the two of you may...discuss whatever it is you are discussing?” Kanaya asked carefully.

“No, it’s fine, I need to think up some more 50s themed insults anyway. So, are you taking the job or not?”

There was a surprising moment of silence on both ends, before Kankri’s phone went off one more time.

 

**Send us pho+to+s o+f the helmets and we’ll see what we can do+.**

 

“Well, glad that’s been settled," Kankri said with an air of finality.

"One sec," Karkat excused himself, pulling the phone away from his face to talk at his brother, “Now, about that rich dick that styles his hair with all of the oil spilled by BP-”

“We are not having this conversation.”

 

-

 

John and Sollux started noticing it around the same time. That ‘time’ being when Karkat began waking up late for classes, and Dave was choosing to stay in and sleep instead of go out around town or over to Rose, Jade, and John’s place after school.

They didn’t end up asking the other about it until Dave literally fell asleep walking home with John one day and Karkat stayed up for a three day stretch, refusing to go to bed until he had all of his ‘work’ finished even though Sollux knew for a damn fact that his course work had been done since that morning.

“This can’t all be over DP, right?” John asked one day as he and Sollux dragged their feet to their 8 AM class together. It was Basics of Viral Infiltration, a fun class for Sollux and a necessary for John seeing as his major was in being a computer technician. They were lucky that they were in the same lecture hall, but unlucky that they couldn’t keep an eye on their respective significant others. John could only hope that Dave would stay asleep seeing as he didn’t have any classes until noon, and Sollux was already shit out of luck seeing as he accidentally woke Karkat up that morning with getting ready and heard him getting out of bed when he was closing the door behind him.

“Look, our courthe work may be getting harder ath the yearth go on, but there’th no way that jutht homework can have thomeone as thubborn ath KK ready to collapthe the moment he getth home. He’th worn to the bone between college and being a manager for a band that thize.”

“Yeah, Dave isn’t much better,” John sighed, sipping at his coffee and watching the steam from it curl up in large wisps due to the chill in the air, “Dirk told me that he pushed himself to get his music done every time they worked together, but I don’t think I ever thought it would be this bad? Between Human After All and finding out that they have another concert coming up, he’s always doing something for it, it’s borderline terrifying.”

“What do you mean?”

“Karkat’s doing all the setup, but Dave has to make all the material!” John reminded, “He’s made about five new songs, in less than three months. By himself, without Dirk. That’s usually their quota for at least half a year with the both of them, because Dirk is busy fixing Human After All. It’s ridiculous, I have to pretty much shove Dave into the bath every few days and feed him myself if I don’t want him to die. Ewww, I can’t even imagine what Dirk is like.” Shaking his head, John shuddered a bit at the mental image, “He wanted to get a degree in Fine Arts under photography, which should have been a pretty lax course, but with a million dollar band on his plate as well I guess he’s just overloaded.”

“There needth to be thome way that we can thop thothe idiotth from killing themthelveth over thith. Dave may be uthed to it, but Karkat ithn’t. I barely get thleep, he can’t keep up at thith rate.”

“I can convince Dave to find a new manager,” John suggested, holding the door open to their lecture hall open for Sollux as other students began to file in behind them.

“At thith point, KK wouldn’t quit. He’th too fucking thubborn for hith own good, and I think he and Kankri have thome thort of war going over thith. Pluth, Dave thaid it himthelf, KK knowth what he’th doing. He’th a good manager, and an even better organither. Tho far everything’th going off without a hitch.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s just as good if not better than Jake was,” John sighed, sitting down in an empty seat near the back and setting his bag down. Next to him, Sollux mirrored him to a T, giving a long sigh as he sat back and took a drink of coffee.

“Well if you wanna help Dave, the firtht thing  you can do ith keep a clother eye on him.”

“Closer eye? I live down the hall from him!”

“Yeah, but that’th thtill down the hall. If he thayth up all night like a god damned idiot, guethh where you are? Down the hall. Not paying attention. At leatht I can drag mine to bed, but you can’t if you’re at your plathe.”

“So what, you’re saying that I should stay at his house just to keep an eye on him?”

Sollux’s expression turned incredulous, “Yeah. He’th your boyfriend, not to mention your pal too. And he’th fucking thtupid. Thtay over once a week and make sure he thleepth, it’th not that crazy of a thuggestion.”

Giving a small hum of agreement, John sat back, frowning as he sipped at his coffee. It’s not like it would be that hard to go to Dave’s place until the concert happened. Hell, he had spent the night there at least twice a week, but by the time he’d wake up Dave would be at class.

“Well . . . He did invite me to move in with him, when I first saw him during Moving Day.”

“Then do it,” Sollux responded without even looking over at his friend, pulling out a notebook to take notes.

“It’s so easy for you to say it! But. . . But that’s a huge commitment, isn’t it? Moving in together?”

Stilling for a moment, Sollux actually gave a frown in thought before glancing over at John, “How long have you two been dating?”

“About nine months.”

“Alright. And I know that shit wath going down before that, tho it’th not like it wath a thurprthing development.”

“Well yeah! Still, what if it’s too soon?”

“Do you wanna move in with him?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“And?”

“And I practically already do! I stay over all the time.”

“Well then what’th thtopping you? Look, you may think it’th a big thing, but are you forgetting that he fucking invited you to live with him? He wantth you to move in, you’re okay with moving in, cathe clothed. Then you can keep an eye on him, and you’re making him happy.”

Nodding a little, John gave a small smile, “Wow Sollux, I think you’re right. That’s a really good point!”

“Not to mention that you’ll get laid like crazy.”

The teacher came in just then and went right to his desk, missed the sight of one of his students in the back hitting a fellow classmate over the head with his own notebook.

 

-

 

Dave fumbled stupidly with his keys, his eyes not able to keep themselves open as he leaned against the door of his dorm. “Stupid locks,” He mumbled under his breath, fighting to get the key in the lock. All he wanted to do was get inside and go the fuck to sleep, nothing more nothing less. And here he was, just getting out of class, and he could barely keep conscious.

Every day, he’d wake up around 8. Sometimes it was just to get to his classes, other times it was because his internal alarm wouldn’t let him do anything else. Then, he’d go through his day, get finished with his lectures, get back to his place, do the homework that was due the next day, and spend the time after that trying to work on songs that they’d need for a concert they’d just gotten wind of a week ago. He’d work until 6 AM, save everything he’d done, get his shit ready for his classes in a few hours, and nap. Sometimes he didn’t even get that much in, too busy re-editing songs and creating new ones that he’d almost run late to class and still be wearing the same clothing as the day before.

Even worse was the fact was that he felt like he was neglecting his friends. John still came over, whether it was just a movie night or cuddling or more, but still the guilt was heavy. That, along with the weight of exhaustion and stress, made it even harder to just _get the god damned key in the hole, holy fuck-_

Dave let out an embarrassingly startled noise when his door opened suddenly. He’d been leaning heavily enough on it that when it opened he stumbled, but the hands that met his shoulders to keep him balanced were John’s, his boyfriend wearing pyjamas and a familiar, buck toothed and dorky smile. “Hi Dave!” He greeted, pulling him inside gently and closing the door behind him before locking it.

“Hey,” Dave said, his lack of sleep causing his emotions to play across his face very obviously, this time portraying confusion, “What are you d-”

“Can you help me hang up my clothes?” John asked, taking Dave’s hand and walking towards one of the bedrooms. Dave noted with even more confusion that it was his bedroom. There were three rooms in the place, with closets more empty than his. But John did sleep in his room with him, so he guessed it made sense.

Upon entering, he was hit by a surprising amount of posters and blue and green accents, not just the few red pieces of art he’d had hung originally.

It took an embarrassingly long time, a total of 37 seconds, of Dave standing in the doorway of his room before realizing that it wasn’t just his anymore. It was theirs. “You moved in,” He said, looking around with bloodshot eyes.

“Is that alright?” John asked, trying not to sound as cautious as he was. Sitting on the floor next to the bed was a box filled with tee shirts, presumably what John had been hanging up when Dave had gotten there. The bed now had a few extra pillows on it, and the end table that had been empty since Dave had moved in was now holding an alarm clock, a phone charger and John’s glasses.

The smile that Dave offered up was tired but genuine.

Nodding, he waved dismissively, “Yeah dude, I just thought you would’a picked up that offer earlier. And not defile our room with shitty posters.” Leaning forward, he gave John a chaste kiss before continuing, “Fridge is free game, obviously, everything’s on limits and the PS4 is set up. I need to work a little bit on one of the newer songs, don’t worry about waiting up.” Yet, even as he spoke, Dave sank against the blue eyed boy, his head resting on his shoulder.

“Actually, I wanted to catch a quick nap,” John said, wrapping his arms comfortably around Dave, feeling him relax even further, “Think you can lie down with me?” It was only 8 in the evening and John could tell by the slump in the blondes shoulders that he needed to get some rest.

“I can’t,” Dave groaned, winding his arms loosely around John’s waist, “You and your siren call of warmth and kick ass cuddles make me want to and all that shit, but I have work to do.”

“Well maybe you’d do better work if you got some sleep.”

"Keep trying to convince me, I'm almost there."

"You can be off of your feet," John sang quietly, chuckling.

"More."

"I can help you relax?" John tried to bargain smoothly, leaning down to kiss Dave's temple as Dave seemed to wake up a bit more at that because of John's suggestive tone. His boyfriend was absolute shit at pillow talk, so implications was pretty much all he had to go on, and this one rang clear as a bell at John continued, "And after that, and after we both get some sleep, I'll make chocolate chip pancakes because I love you and you need food, sleep and affection."

"Holy shit, thank you for moving in," Dave said, turning his head to kiss John. Of course the dork smiled against his lips, but Dave pulled back just far enough to speak before his grip on John tightened momentarily, "Now bed me hard enough that I'll sleep in past eight and eat like a god damned king in the morning."

"I accept that challenge!" John said with a huge grin, picking Dave up and giving a giggle at the surprised noise the blonde made.

 

-

 

Normally, whenever Karkat got home late, Sollux would still be on his computer. This was the ritual for these kinds of days. Sollux would work for maybe an hour more before finally cuddling up to him and sleeping. But this time around, the lisping nerd was nowhere near his computer. Instead, he sat on the futon, his legs crossed leisurely and his arms resting behind the cushions. An easy smirk played on his lips.

“KK, theduthe me.”

Ah yes, just what he needed. Karkat rolled his eyes with a snort, nodding towards Sollux. “You?”

“Theduthe me,” Sollux repeated simply. Karkat had to resist the urge to laugh at him. He didn’t look even the slightest bit sexy, with nothing but boxers and a loose t-shirt on and his hair sticking up in all directions. His glasses were still on, like the total douchebag he was. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, and now he was demanding Karkat to seduce him? As amused as he was right now, Karkat was too tired for this shit.

“Sollux, I’m not going to fucking-”

“THEDUTHE ME.”

-

"...I can’t believe you just got laid over a shitty Team Fortress 2 reference," Karkat mumbled into Sollux’s chest, feeling more relaxed than ever.

The asshole didn’t even give a retort, instead opting for eyebrow waggling.

Karkat hated that he actually smiled a little bit.

“You’re a dick,” he huffed out, even as he felt Sollux’s chest rise and fall rhythmically underneath him.

“A dick who totally got laid over making a thupid referenthe,” Sollux said boldly, kissing Karkat’s hair as the shorter one rolled his eyes.

“That was so fucking stupid, I should be hung at the goddamned gallows for even considering letting it happen. With a fucking computer mouse cord,” He grumbled, “Because apparently video games need to be prevalent in every fucking facet of my hell of a life, sex and death included.”

“Wow, you thure know how to win a guy over,” Sollux scoffed, running a hand through his boyfriend’s hair.

“Shut up, or you’re going to wake up to nothing but an empty apartment and a sad note,” Karkat groaned pitifully before reaching up and kissing Sollux with a hidden grin.

“I’m not the one who took off hith pantth at lightning thpeed the moment thex wath on the table. Theriously, you needed thith even more than I did.”

“Ugh, can’t we just ignore the fact that I was weak and-”

“And thleep inthtead? Yeah, we can.”

“. . . Actually, I need to talk to a few of our sponsors, to cover the cost o-”

“KK, you’re going to bed.”

Karkat’s eyes narrowed as he propped his chin up on Sollux’s chest and looking at him, “I don’t remember asking what you wanted me to do.”

“No, and I don’t remember thigning up for an empty bed every night and even even more angry than usual boyfriend.” Wrapping his arms tightly around Karkat, he flipped the two of them with some difficulty, pinning Karkat against the bed.

“Sollux, Jesus Christ on a bear skinned rug, would you let the fuck up? I have a job to do-”

“Goodnight KK.”

“I swear to god if I don’t get through these goddamn contacts I will-”

“Goodnight, Karkat.”

“. . . . . Night.”

Sollux relaxed a bit over Karkat, but even as he did he spoke softly close to Karkat's ear with a smile in his voice, “Dick.”

“Oh fuck you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Team Fortress 2: Time's life blood. Comments, questions, concerns? Message me at burnieplease.tumblr.com or Time at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com, oooor leave a comment below!!))


	38. Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! It's been a while. I apologize for the lack of updating, but these chapters are incredibly long and thought out, and my organization game isn't very strong right now. I've been busy with community theater rehearsals and such, so getting in the right mindset to write after 4 hours of work is quite difficult.  
> BUT! I am here with a consolation.  
> This chapter is a bit different, but it is very essential to the story.  
> So, enjoy!  
> -Time

“You’re the victim, dear. Not the problem.”  

Mituna Siionic was a victim of emotional dysregulation. Those were the exact words his parents used to explain it. According to them, he didn’t have a disorder. Despite the fact that he had been diagnosed with cyclothymic disorder, they never addressed it as a part of him. It was an outside source that attacked.

-

He didn’t have much luck with making friends in elementary school. A majority of his class thought he was weird. He had a funny lisp. When he was upset, he screamed a lot and threw things. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were two different colors. Some kids spread the rumor that he was posessed by a monster when he was a baby, and that’s why one of his eyes was blue and the other was brown. They said that half of him was the devil. It was bullshit, and he knew it (in more polite terms). He was a normal boy with funny looking eyes, that was all. He wasn’t bullied as much as he was just generally avoided.

Until December 6 of 1997, his first grade year.

“Class, we have a special guest here today! Meet your new classmate, Kurloz Makara. Kurloz, say hello.”

The boy had did not open his mouth, but simply waved at the class. Mituna was the only one who waved back.

The teacher sputtered, her face turning pink with embarrassment. “Oh, I’m so sorry dear. Class, Kurloz here is mute. That means he cannot talk. But, I’ve been told he knows sign language. Is that true, Kurloz?”

He answered with several complex hand gestures, which Mituna assumed was this sign speak that Miss Paint just mentioned. He really wished he knew what they meant, because the boy looked really excited about them!

As soon as they were done with introductions, they went straight to play time. Several kids went to play with the class pet, a salamander by the name of Casey. Others went to make houses out of legos. A few of them pulled out puzzles. Mituna took to his usual spot at the corner table with his empty notebook, where he began doodling a self portrait.

The presence next to him did not make himself known until Mituna broke his pencil. When a new one was suddenly set on his notebook, Mituna jumped. Kurloz watched him with dark eyes, a small smile on his face. His dark hair went everywhere without effort. Mituna liked the little strands that stuck out and curled outward in random places.

The new boy made a few hand signs that were returned with a confused look, and then he made a face. Grabbing the pencil back and turning to an empty page in Mituna's notebook, he began to write.

**You’re a very good drawer**

“Thanks,” Mituna beamed, and then frowned. “I forgot your name.”

**My name is Kurloz. What about you?**

“I’m Mituna. Nice to meet you, Kurloz.”

Kurloz looked up from the page and smiled at him before writing again.

**Your name sounds like Tuna :0]**

The one who could talk giggled. “Tuna is like, more than half of my name! Of course it sounds like Tuna.”

They looked at each other with similar grins. Kurloz’s eyes sparkled before he went to write something else down.

**Also, you have really cool eyes!**

“...You think so?” he mumbled quietly. “Nobody else thinks so.”

The other boy frowned, scribbling another sentence.

**Well they don’t have cool eyes so that’s their problem**

Mituna laughed. Kurloz huffed with him.

They spent the rest of the day sitting next to each other and communicating through Mituna’s journal. After class, Mituna asked Miss Paint where he could go to learn that funny hand language.

-

Kurloz had been diagnosed with throat cancer at a young age. The tumors would flare up for a while and then leave long enough that everybody was able to get comfortable again before the rug was pulled from under them yet again when they returned. Mituna didn’t understand what was going on most of the time, but he eventually became as frequent of a guest in the hospital with Kurloz as the rest of the Makara family.

-

Mituna started taking speech therapy for his lisp in middle school and often missed class time for it. A rumor began that he was being taken to the counselor’s office to check him for drugs (it wasn’t his fault that his favorite and only jacket made him look like a stoner). A lot of kids also assumed he was gay because of his involvement with choir and his closeness with Kurloz. Kurloz always backed him up when he got picked on, despite his inability to speak out against them. He only had two classes with him, though. And lunch, which the two of them spent in the ULE room playing board games and learning the answers to riddles and paradoxes with the other smart kids in school. Latula Pyrope (a girl with long ginger hair and braces) was one of them.

One day, they were walking through the hallway on their way to their lockers before lunch and Latula was “accidentally” tripped, spilling everything in her hands everywhere. Both Kurloz and Mituna helped her pick up her things and take her to the nurse’s office to treat her skinned knee. She laughed through the tears as Mituna told dumb jokes and Kurloz made funny faces at them.

The next week, she never showed up to school. Supposedly her family moved away. The ULE room was a little quieter after that.  

-

“Aw, check this out. He’s not even putting up a good fight.”

Kurloz wheezed as a foot sunk into his stomach a second time. He was cornered in the locker room after gym. It was the last period of the day, so no teachers stayed to supervise them. Every jock in his class (as well as some other goons that walked in from other classes) surrounded him, jeering and making sly remarks about his disability. He hit the floor three times, imitating the referee in a wrestling match, trying to get them to stop. His attacker only laughed at him.

“What are you going to do, faggot? Signal your boyfriend to come and save you?”

“Hey, fuck you.”

Every single person in the room turned to the doorway, which Mituna stood in with shaking fists.

“What was that, faggot?”

They certainly weren’t creative with their name calling. But at that moment, Mituna didn’t give a shit. He strode right through the crowd and punched the offending jock (Jacob, or something generic like that, Mituna couldn’t remember) in the jaw, causing him to reel back and reach for his face. “I thaid, fuck you,” he repeated, his lisp resurfacing as he began to get angry.

All hell broke loose. Jacob threw his own punch at Mituna, who took it in the gut. He refused to double over, even as several others joined in the fight and threw their punches. Kurloz stood up and leaned on him, sending some hard smacks and precise kicks in the right places at the right times. There was one jock in particular that had been observing the entire time that tried to pry the bullies off of Mituna and Kurloz after things got really messy. When Jacob’s nose was freely bleeding and Mituna had various bruises as well as a split lip, the coach ran in to break things up. The jock who had been trying to pull them off of each other just so happened to be gripping one jock’s shirt in a conveniently violent looking pose.

“Siionic. Makara. Ampora. Principal’s office, pronto. Williams, to the nurse’s office, and then the principal. The rest of you will come in early tomorrow to clean trophies as punishment. Now move,” the coach barked. This obviously wasn’t his first time dealing with an after school fight. Everybody cleared out, moving to their respective locations.

Mituna, Kurloz, and Cronus (he introduced himself as they looked over each other’s injuries) explained to Principal Slick what transpired to the best of their ability. They left with only two weeks of detention and were instructed to assist in trophy cleaning the next morning.

“Hey, thank you guys for not throwin’ me under the bus there. I owe you one.”

Mituna and Kurloz exchanged a look, and then both looked back at Cronus. “Why would we? You did try to stop it.”

“Well, I didn’t prevent it. And I was in a compromising position when the old man walked in on it. You could’ve framed me.”

Kurloz shook his head. Mituna supplied, “We wouldn’t do that to a new friend.”

Cronus smiled. “For real?”

Kurloz nodded, to which Mituna unnecessarily translated, “Hell yeah. You’re pretty cool. And you read Harry Potter. So hey.”

Cronus’s grin widened. “Harry Potter is great. Slytherin is the best house.”

Mituna ‘boo’ed, and Kurloz gave Cronus a high five.

All of their parents were informed of the events that occurred that afternoon. Only Cronus got grounded that night.

-

Mituna and Cronus ended up being music buddies, emailing each other their favorite music and some of their own samples. They often played off of the idea of starting a music business together some day.

-

“What do old people smell like?” Gamzee read the black card before slapping it down on the floor in front of him. Kurloz and Mituna looked through their cards, trying to find the best answer. None of them were technically old enough to play the game, but Mr. Makara honestly didn’t care. The game was just too fun to wait for.

The two selected their cards, as well as a random card from the deck to simulate a third player. Rando Cardrissian was the way to go in Cards Against Humanity. Gamzee picked up the cards with a grin.

“Alright, what do old people smell like? All you can eat shrimp for $4.90.” He snorted. “Lame. What do old people smell like? Poor life choices. Okay, that one is actually funny. And what do old people smell like?” He lifted the card and had to hold back a laugh. “The clitoris.”

“Gamzee, you’re like, 12. Do you even know what a clitoris is?”

“Shuddup, I know what it is. And I’m 13, motherfucker! That card wins.”

Kurloz threw his hands up in the air in celebration. That was his seventh card that night, which meant he had just won the game.

“You’re too good at this game! No fair,” Mituna flopped into his friend’s lap, hugging his waist. “Let me absorb your powers.”

Kurloz smiled brightly, his hands falling onto Mituna’s back and giving him a half-hearted pap of sympathy.

-

The first thing Mituna saw his freshman year was Latula Pyrope performing a sick grind on Beforus High’s grand staircase with her skateboard. Her mouth was no longer filled with metal, and her hair was cropped to her shoulders. Her red sunglasses reflected the light as she flew down the railing.

She looked positively radical.

Kurloz huffed amusedly, entertained by the look Mituna was giving the girl as she was escorted to the principal’s office.

-

Mituna started a band with some of the other music students his freshman year. They called themselves The Stingers. He was the front man. Kurloz commented that it was funny that he was the front man of a band with a bee themed name, because he had always been fond of them.

Cronus was the first one to help them get an actual gig at a cafe downtown. After a few house parties and other small performances, they took a break.

-

Freshman year went by faster than expected, but sophomore year dragged out for eons.

Mainly because Kurloz was hospitalized before first quarter even finished.

Mituna paced in the waiting room as they informed Kurloz’s dad of the situation at hand. He was rapidly losing his cool, his fists shaking and tears forming in his eyes. He had a therapist once, and he tried to remember everything she had told him about coping with panic attacks, but the longer his time in the waiting room was drawn out, the less her calming techniques worked for him.

His head snapped to the door as it opened, revealing Mr. Makara and the doctor.

“What happened? Where’th...where is Kurloz?” Mituna paused at the sudden lisp, correcting himself mid-word.

“Not right now, I’m afraid. Visiting hours are over for the day.”

“Visiting hours?”

Mr. Makara, who was practically Mituna’s second father, set a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I am so sorry, Tuna.”

-

He cried. He screamed. He tried to throw a chair before he was pulled back and into another room.

The most recent tumors had been caught too late. His partner in crime Kurloz Makara was dying of throat cancer. They expected him to succumb to the tumors in two months.

-

Due to some stupid ass rules in the educational system, Mituna was not allowed to miss school to stay by Kurloz’s side. He didn’t make contact with anybody during the school hours. If anybody tried to approach him, he would yell and lisp at them until they went away.

The only person that managed to make several attempts to communicate with him was Latula Pyrope. She sat across from him at lunch and wordlessly ate with him for an entire week before he gave her any attention.

“What do you want?”

“What, can a rad girl not sit with a totally cool guy at lunch?”

He didn’t answer her, opting instead to poke at his ramen. She sighed softly.

“Something happened, didn’t it? Your friend that doesn’t talk hasn’t been coming to school. I was just wondering if-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Latula nodded slowly, changing the subject. “Do you play video games?” Mituna nodded, mumbling a confirmation. “Have you played the new Final Fantasy yet?” He perked up at that, shaking his head. Latula smiled softly. “It’s soooo good.”

“I’ve been waiting for Final Fantasy XII to come out for such a long time, man.”

“You wanna come over and play it some time?”

Mituna offered his own little smile. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

-

Latula became his girlfriend a month later. Mituna found that when she let her guard down, she became the girl they played board games with and helped to the nurse’s office in middle school. As cool as she was when she tried to be, he liked her when she was herself a lot more.

-

**How are you today? :0]**

“Well, considering my best friend only has an estimated two weeks left to live, pretty shitty.”

Kurloz’s smile fell. He wrote in the notebook Mituna kept of all their conversations, the one all the way back from first grade, and pushed it gently into his friend’s lap.

**I’m sorry. For all of this.**

“Don’t be. You’re the victim, not the problem.”

The other shook his head furiously, grabbing the notebook again and scribbling furiously. Mituna looked over his shoulder at his writing.

**No. I’m not a victim, Tuna. This is a part of me, and I have to accept it.**

“Cancer is a disease that-”

Kurloz pushed him to get him to stop as he wrote again.

**This cancer is what made me who I am. It’s just one of the traits I have to live with. I embrace it. And if it weren’t for the cancer, I wouldn’t have been placed in the elementary school with the best program for students with disabilities in town. I wouldn’t have met you, Tuna.**

Mituna felt his throat constrict. “Don’t do that.”

**You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t trade meeting you for the healthiest body in the world.**

Tears fell down Tuna’s cheeks. “You’re such a thap,” he lisped, giving no fucks about how weird he sounded.

He felt a hand squeeze his, and he looked up at Kurloz in his hospital bed, his hand holding Mituna’s as if it were his lifeline, tears welling up in his own eyes.

Mituna squeezed back, trying to will some of his own lifespan to transfer to his best friend.

-

“FUCIGN SHIT, FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIT FUCK-”

He died while Mituna was in sixth period. He wasn’t notified until the end of the day by a school counselor. He tried to hold his outburst in, he really did. But in the end…

“Mr. Siionic, please calm down-”

“YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN MY BETHT FUCKING FRIEND DIED HOURTH AGO? FUCK THAT. FUCK. THAT,” He screamed, his hands knotting in his hair.

Latula, who had been waiting outside of the counselor’s office, burst in as soon as the noise picked up.

“Tuna, whats-” he cut her off with a heart-wrenching scream. Latula watched in shock. She was aware of his mental illness, but she had never experienced it first hand until now. As soon as he stopped for air, she rushed to his side and wrapped her arms around him securely. “Tuna! Mituna, please!”

He kept screaming, but Latula was there, rubbing circles on his back and gently murmering calming things in his ear. The counselor left to give them some privacy. Eventually, the screams turned to loud curses, which turned to babbling, which turned to mumbling. Latula waited patiently for him to explain what happened.

“He...fuginscghn...died...and I wathn’t there to thay goodbye…”

Latula felt hot tears stain her shirt as he buried himself in her shoulder. She hated to see him in this much pain. “Oh, Tuna…”

“I’m thorry...I’m tho thorry…”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m not a victim.”

Latula pulled him up so that she could see his face. “What was that?”

“I’m not a victim. And neither wath he. He embrathed it. And tho do I.”

His voice wavered on the last sentence, and then Latula pulled him close again as he cried some more. They didn’t leave the office until an hour later, and then Latula and Mituna made their way to the Makara residence.

-

Mituna struggled his way through the rest of high school, his grades fluctuating almost perfectly in time with the anniversary of Kurloz’s death. Latula helped as best as she could in these months, staying close to him and giving him every ounce of support she could muster.

Mituna loved her so much.

“Hey, weren’t you in a band freshman year?”

The question appeared from out of the blue on one of their video game dates. Mituna raised his eyebrow, performing a combo and sending Samus flying off of the battle arena. Latula cursed, and Mituna grinned in response.

“I mean, you really love to play music, and you haven’t done it since then.”

He paused the game, giving her his full attention.

“And?”

“Well, I was wondering…”

Mituna chuckled, leaning over to where she was sitting on the floor in front of him and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He nuzzled her hair. “Wondering what?”

“I wanted to have live music for my graduation open house. Do you think you could pull something together?”

He paused. It wasn’t a terrible idea. He really did love music. But it had been a while since he’d even talked to the other guys in the band, let alone heard from them.

“I’ll see what I can do, Tulip.”

Latula grinned triumphantly, unpausing the game and unleashing a can of whoopass on Solid Snake.

-

“Mituna! How is life treating you?”

Mituna chuckled. “I’m doing pretty good. Say, thanks a lot for getting me back into music.”

“Hey, no problem. You’re really talented, man. I’m glad I could help.”

“I can’t help but feel like I should return the favor, though.”

Cronus paused. “Whaddya mean, friend?”

“Well, I barely made it out of high school, and now I’m living in a penthouse in California with enough money to give my grandchildren’s grandchildren. And I owe it all to you, dude.”

“Hey now, you don’t have to do nothing. I’m getting by just fine.”

“Too late.”

“What?”

“There’s a phone call waiting for you on the other line.”

He could practically hear the grin on Mituna’s face. With a quick and confused goodbye, he picked up the other line. “Cronus Ampora speaking.”

“Hello, Cronus. This is Grant Highblute.”

Cronus almost fainted right there. Grant Highblute. The Grant Highblute. He had been wanting to work with him for ages. How Mituna managed to get to him, he’d never know, but damn did he need to buy him a drink later.

“I’ve been told by a reliable source that you are in need of a job in the music industry?”

“Y-yes. Indeed I am, Mr. Highblute.”

The man chuckled, much like Mituna had earlier. “That’s great news, Mr. Ampora. I’d like to offer you a job.”

Mituna worked miracles. Cronus reminded himself to buy that man as many drinks as he wished one day.

-

Even 9 years later, with a career in music and a wonderful life, his life was not as good as it could have been with Kurloz Makara still a part of it.

But he wasn’t a victim of this happening.

It made him who he was today.

And he accepted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the story has been orphaned to me, so if you have any comments, questions, or concerns, message me at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com, or leave a comment below! My partner in crime, burnieplease.tumblr.com can also answer questions about our AU as a whole!


	39. Too Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been much too long  
> I feel it coming on  
> I feel it in my bones  
> Behold, the final chapter of Buy it Use it Break it Fix it!  
> I think I can say this on behalf of both Hammer and I, you guys are the best. Thank you so much for all the support you've given us throughout the creation of this entire fic. Much love for all of you <3

“You’re all probably wondering what you’re doing here.”

“Not really. You were pretty clear in the message.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Dirk. Now shut up or I’ll punch this computer screen so hard that both you and your big puppet-loving weeaboo brother will feel it.”

Karkat had messaged him a few minutes ago with the warning of an impromptu game plan meeting. Because of the split between Houston and San Antonio based members of the group, they were all invited via skype. Three different screens besides his own came up when he entered the group. The first was a wide shot of Karkat pacing while Dave, John, Tavros, and Gamzee sat in various states of laziness and confusion on and around a futon. The second one contained Kanrki, who was currently drinking a warm mug of something. The last one was Cronus, obviously in his office, tapping his fingers and staring at the screen with an occasional smirk (his reaction to seeing himself on camera, Dirk guessed).

“The proper term is anime trash,” Dirk retorted.

“Yeah, check your privilege Karkat,” Dave added. He yelped when Karkat promptly smacked him with the magazine in his hand.

“If you two inarticulate bubbles of shit are finished, I can start.” He cleared his throat. “Everybody listening? Because I won’t repeat myself after all this. If you somehow end up ruining the entire event, it will all be because of your sheer incompetence. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Kankri answered with an eyeroll. “Get on with it.”

Karkat gave nothing but a small nod in response before starting his speil. “So, Madison Square is in two weeks. The album still needs to be recorded professionally, but is otherwise finished.”

“Incorrect. We still need to hear Tavros,” Dave interrupted. Tavros nodded when his name was said, swallowing nervously. Gamzee wrapped his hands around the smaller one’s waist and set his chin on his shoulder. Dirk had to resist the urge to ironically yell “gaaay” at them. “Then we have to collaborate with that one guy Cronus was talking about. What’s his name, Salmon-”

“I was getting to that,” Karkat glared at the Strider in the room with him. “And his name is Tuna, you dipshit.” At that moment, he pulled a magazine out with said artist’s face on the cover. “He’s 23 years old. He was in a band when he was in high school, and now he does solo work. Cronus has connections with him, and surprisingly, he called us to start this whole collaboration. He wants to meet up with the two robot assholes and begin as soon as possible, which we assumed was tomorrow. Dirk, you’ll be driving over here at the asscrack of dawn to prepare.”

God damn it.

“He and his long time agent girlfriend will be there to meet you for afternoon tea.”

“What’s up with that, is he british?” Dave commented.

“They just flew back from a Europe tour, so he’s probably still in the mindset. He tends to do that,” Cronus answered matter-of-factly, a small smile on his face. “Good ol’ Tuna.”

“Yes, what a great fucking guy. Now will you let me continue?”

Cronus only answered with an ambiguous middle finger. Kankri scoffed.

“Splendid. Now, while you are working on finishing the album, I’ve got your outfits for Madison Square covered. Kanaya and Porrim Maryam will be making and coordinating your performance attire from now on. And while you’re recording, Kankri and I will be in New York getting shit together. So if you have any preferences about what goes in the show, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Lasers.”

If it hadn’t been for the lag of their computers, the Strider brothers would have said that word in perfect synchronization. Dirk smirked, and Dave laughed.

“Yeah, I think we need lasers.”

“We’re going back to the 80s. Tell those Maryams we need to get perms and legwarmers pronto.”

Now John was laughing, smacking Dave on the arm. “You guys are ridiculous. Legwarmers, oh my god.”

Everybody else chuckled a little. Karkat groaned.

“I’ll get you your lasers if you can shut up for the rest of the meeting. Got it, Striders?”

“Got it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good. Now, the last phase of this plan is pretty simple. We get the two assholes over to New York, they bring all their show shit, you rehearse a couple times, and then you perform. Any questions?”

“Yeah. What the hell am I supposed to be doing during all of this?” Cronus asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Whatever your greaser heart desires, Ampora,” Karkat answered with a fair amount of venom in his voice. “Is that it? Because I’m tired as fuck, and my laptop is running out of battery.”

-

It had been a while since Dirk had called.

One week and three days, to be exact.

Jake fidgeted with his watch, the pale skin peeking from underneath. It was just one of his many ridiculous tanlines acquired from this excavation. As weird as it seemed, Jake always took pride in how much contrast he could gain in his tanlines. To him, they showed just how much work he did. They were the mark of a true adventurer. In Texas, he wasn’t able to get as great of a contrast between the pale and the tan, because there was hardly anything to do outdoors besides melt and die.

With the knot tugging at his heart becoming stronger with worry, Jake couldn’t help but feel that he would rather do that than spend another day half-heartedly breaking old things for fun.

Christ on a bike, he could already hear his past self yelling at him for addressing his lifelong dream so simply.

But of course that was his old self.

It wasn’t the self that had already experienced it, and it wasn’t the self who’d given up an entirely new dream that he’d already been living. Ever since he’d talked to Aradia, Jake had been feeling more and more homesick.

She was right! She was right and he hated it, confound it! He was living a dream, a new apartment, an attractive and successful significant other, great friends, an amazing job. He’d been living the high life.

And how here he was, wringing his hands over the fact that Dirk hadn’t called him. Picking up his phone, he tapped in the number from memory, taking in a deep breath.

The phone went right to voicemail.

This is Dirk Strider, if you are trying to contact me I’m sorry that I’m not at the phone right now, and I’ll try to call you later. Leave a message after the -

Hanging up, Jake dropped his phone before sliding his glasses to his hair, rubbing his fists against his eyes.

Dirk had mentioned a while ago that they’d gotten a new manager. That Karkat fellow that he’d met before.

And not caring enough to turn on his phone?

The fear that he was being forgotten was beginning to swell and flood him, making him begin to wring his hands as he stood, pacing in his tent. He’d been replaced as a manager, yes. But as a boyfriend? He highly doubted it. Yet, that didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t forgotten.

Glancing back at his phone, he swallowed the lump in his throat, sitting down abruptly. Dirk had to call back, he had to. He never didn’t! “Except for this past week,” Jake mumbled to himself, resting his chin in his crossed forearms, which were draped over his knees.

Frowning in thought, Jake realized exactly what he’d done.

He’d given up everything he’d worked for, everything he cared about and the only person he’d ever fallen for. He’d brought this on himself.

If Dirk was forgetting him. . .

“Then it’s my fault,” He concluded to no one, seeming to shrink a little at the thought as he curled up against himself.

This couldn’t be his fault, it couldn’t be, could it?

Biting his bottom lip, Jake suddenly realized exactly what this meant.

It was his fault, and damn it, he was an English! The most stubborn family of all, in his eyes. Pushing himself to stand, he took in a deep breath, his phone going to his pocket as he began to wring his hands.

If this was his fault, then by golly, he was going to be the one who fixed it!

He was going to make everything right, himself, instead of pining and waiting like a damsel in distress. Jake English was a man with a lot of heart, and damn it if he was going to lose that feeling to being forgotten! He was going to remind Dirk that he was there, he was going to remind Dirk that he still cared for him more than anything, and he was going to do it all with the pride that only a green eyed adventurer could possess.

He was going to fix the mess he made, confound it, and with this thought he even stood taller, getting an almost prideful expression.

And, while this mental pep talk was good for himself, and enough to make him feel less worried about the hole currently being clawed through his pant leg by his ever silent phone, Jake realized that he had absolutely no idea how to go about fixing it.

Dropping back to sitting on his bed, Jake glanced around with a long winded sigh, shaking his head.

-

In Texas, a blonde boy was asleep over a soundboard, two robots behind him getting stuck in a rap battle and the coffee pot that he’d fixed burning the small amount of coffee in the bottom. His phone was dead, open beside him, and this was becoming standard procedure.

**  
  
**

-

Jake was almost completely packed when his grandmother waltzed in.

“Alrighty, you ready for another day of…” the weathered woman had boomed enthusiastically, her sentence suddenly trailing off when she spotted his bags next to his mat. “Jake, dear, is something wrong?”

With a deep breath, Jake quietly mumbled his intentions of leaving.

“I’m sorry, dear, but I’m an old lady who can’t hear a damn thing anymore! You’ll have to speak up.” She never did so purposely, but Grandma Harley never ceased to make Jake feel like a child time and time again. This was no exception. Jake cleared his throat and tried again.

“Grandma...I’m...I’m leaving the expedition,” he said as clearly as he could manage before bracing himself for a face full of angry old woman. What he was greeted with, however, was a startling amount of silence. “...Grandma?”

“Oh.” She looked absolutely crestfallen. He almost second guessed his decision simply because it upset his Grandmother. Almost. “Well, before you leave...would you at least tell me why you are departing so soon?”

“I’m just not feeling it, I suppose.”

She snorted. “You are leaving an Egyptian excavation because you ‘just aren’t feeling it’? I’ve raided tombs while pregnant, I explored rainforests while in menopause! If I can do projects like these when I’m under the weather, I’m sure you could too, dear. Actually, I know you would!” She crossed her arms. “Now what’s the real reason that you’re leaving me?”

Blimey, this was difficult. Jake carded a hand through his hair, unsure of how to word his defense. “No, no, I’m not sick. I mean, not in that way. Homesick? Yes, that’s the word for it.”

“If you’re trying to make it better, you’re certainly not, Jake Archibald Kenneth English.”

When Grandma Harley was upset, she usually went through stages. The first stage was politeness, or talking with a voice that was a touch too sweet. The second stage involved guilt tripping. The third and final stage was when she pulled out his full name.

Jake was well aware that he had pulled her through all three stages in less than two minutes.

“I’m not letting you leave this expedition, boy! You’re needed here.”

“I’m also needed at home!”

“By who? Who in the world could be more important to you than your life dream?”

“Dirk Strider, for christ’s sake!”

There was no hesitation in his last statement. As much as he regretted the appalled expression on Grandma Harley’s face, he stood his ground. The last time Jake had done this to his grandmother, he had been thirteen. She then proceeded to tug him by his ear all the way to the bathroom and proceeded to wash his mouth out with soap. He had never raised his voice towards his grandmother ever again. That is, until right now. He prepared himself for the worst.

Then, the unexpected happened. She didn’t explode.

“Oh, Jake,” she said knowingly before sitting cross-legged on the floor and patting the empty space next to her. “Please excuse me for being so cross, but this has been your dream for years. Who is Dirk Strider, and just how important is he to you?” she asked softly, wrapping a strong arm around Jake as soon as he settled next to her. Jake leaned onto her shoulder, a deep sigh escaping from him.

“...I met him while I was a radio DJ in Houston. He…” he considered not telling his grandmother about Daft Punk, but thought against it. He’d never lied to her before, and didn’t want to start now. “He and his brother started a band, and I played their music on my station. Then, Jane and I hired them for Roxy’s birthday party and he was really funny and charming, and he asked me to be their stage manager…”

“I remember hearing about that part,” she smiled. “They paid you generously, if my memory serves me right.”

The man grinned. “Yeah, they did. And it was a lovely job, it really was. But that’s not why I want to go back, per se. Dirk himself...I…” He hesitated again. What would his grandmother say? He was in a relationship with another man. She had grown up in a time where that was taboo. He was close with his grandmother, but she never exactly told him her opinion on that specific topic. Would he be disowned?

...Oh, to hell with it, there was nothing left to lose.

“Bloody hell, I love him. We’ve been going steady for almost a year, now. Our anniversary is coming up, I think. Or maybe I missed it. Christ, I’ve been terrible to him, Grandma. He didn’t take my leaving very well in the first place, and now I haven’t heard from him in a week…”

She went still beside him. Oh no. This was bad.

“So you are telling me...that you have a boyfriend in Texas?”

“Well, I-”

“And you left him for two years to come here and smash up old things with your old lady? I thought I raised you better than that, honey.”

“...You’re not mad?”

The old woman let out a peal of laughter that no matter how old she got, always sounded the same. “I was at first. But now you have a legitimate reason to leave! You love him, dearie. He makes you happy. And now I understand that no matter how much you want this, it won’t make you as happy as this Dirk boy does.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Go back to him, honey. I’ll pay the airfare for you.”

A deep emerald green set of eyes widened. “Really? I can go?”

“As long as you make sure I get to meet this man that stole my little Jake’s heart before my heart gives out. Yes, you have my full permission to be dismissed from the expedition.”

Jake hugged her tightly, being careful not to be too rough with her, before crawling up to his feet and grabbing his bags. “Thank you for understanding.”

She laughed one more time as he pulled her up to her feet as well. “I would’ve hoped the same would happen to me if it had been your grandfather, may he rest in peace. Now go to your man and tell him you love him, alright?”

“I certainly will,” he paused at the entrance of the tent. “Grandma?”

Grandma Harley cracked her back and stretched. “Yes dear?”

“I love you.”

She snorted again. “Don’t butter me up, dear, my cholesterol levels are too high for that. All those damn british sweets, I tell you. Just call me when you get to the airport.”

He left with a bright smile on his face, and grandma sighed, sitting back down on the tent floor. Her little Jake was growing up on her. And she was so proud.

“I love you too, honey. I love you too.”

-

“Daft Punk! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” the woman beamed, offering her hand to Dirk. Neither of them wore their helmets, but they opted to wear their respective shades. Dirk accepted her handshake graciously, while Dave saluted to her. “I’m Latula Pyrope, Tuna’s agent.”

“Woah, did you say Pyrope? Our lawyer’s name is Pyrope.”

“Terezi? Yeah, she’s kind of a lawyer,” Latula shrugged. “That’s my sister.”

Dave whistled. “Small world.”

“Anyway,” Dirk interjected, ready to get down to business and go back home to sleep for twelve years. “We are more than honored to be working with you guys, thank you for calling.”

“Oh, it’s no prob. You guys are great. Like, really great. You guys can sit down...awesome. Tuna’s been raving about you guys for ages! He loves electronic more than he does rock music. Back when we were in high school, he always complained about the genre The Stingers were popular for.”

Dave felt kind of bad for not recognizing the name of the artist in the first place. Bro used to collect records and cds, and he remembered The Stingers popping up in the collection numerous times. They weren’t all that old yet, having started in the 90s and all. Dave and Dirk had been subjected to their music a few times in their life. Now that he knew this, Dave was a little intimidated.

Latula talked to them for a little while longer before Tuna entered the room. He was still rather young looking, with long shaggy hair that nearly fell over his eyes and a happy go lucky grin. Dirk and Dave stood up from their seats as if he were the president himself. Mituna snorted.

“What, is the queen behind me? You guys can stand up, I’m just a friend,” he grinned, offering his hand to both of them. “Mituna Siionic, also known as Tuna. Nice to meet you guys. Dirk and Dave, right?”

“Yeah, that’s us. I’m Dave, the gold one, and that’s my brother Dirk, the silver one.”

“Cool,” Tuna smiled, leaning back on the wall. “I’m a big fan. I can’t wait to get to work with you. Let’s get started, eh?”

-

“...So with the patches we’ve recorded and a mutual style in mind, what should the lyrics be?”

“As long as it’s not another love song, ugh.”

“Ah, somebody’s had a bad experience.”

“Let’s just say I’ve done enough of those to serenade Tulip for days.”

“Hmm. Well, we don’t really have any love songs on this album. We might need one? I dunno.”

“What if it was more abstract. Like, you never say ‘I love you’ anywhere in the song. You don’t even specify that you’re talking about a lover. Just somebody very important to you.”

“I have the lyrics.”

Tuna made his last statement very quietly, which caused the Striders to simultaneously give him a questioning look. The celebrity sighed, going to his backpack and fishing out an old notebook.

“Tuna, what do you mean you have the lyrics?”

“I’ve been writing this for ages, and never had the music to go with it. But now that you guys are here, I figured I could get some help.”

He flipped to the page and presented it to the brothers. They read through it, not questioning what this man they were working with had to go through to create such a strong piece of work. Dirk nodded slowly.

“Well, let’s get to work, shall we?”

Tuna perked up again, taking a pencil out from behind his ear and heading to where they had started plunking chords at the keyboard. “Let’s get to it.”

-

“So? I’m ready to listen,” Dave said, his dark circles hidden behind his shades as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “This is the last song I have to do shit for, seeing as Dirk’s still working with Tuna tonight, so throw in a little razzle dazzle and blow my damn shades off.”

Tavros was sitting in Dave and John’s apartment with his guitar on his lap, and an amused smile on his face. “You’re the first person, to hear it,” He admitted, propping the instrument and fiddling with his guitar pick a bit.

“Well I won’t be the last,” Dave promised. Dave knew well that Tavros was good at art, but based off of the rapping that he’d heard, he had mixed hopes. But the kid seemed pretty confident, so with a roll of his shoulders Dave sat back, watching his friend.

Nodding at Dave’s words, Tavros shifted in his chair before pressing his fingers tightly against the strings, strumming once and singing the first line of his own song with a smile on his face.

Dave had to bite back a grin as a quality song made it’s debut, the singer doing the lyrics justice with more talent than Dave thought Tavros could possess. And the moment it got to the chorus, Dave gave a laugh, Tavros having to hide a proud grin as he continued to sing. The song itself was funny, charming, and oddly smooth. Dave was halfway tempted to call up Dirk and have him listen, but then remembered that this was his project.

Oh hell to the fucking yes.

Dave knew he had the next hit of the year, sitting right in front of him and playing that guitar like he was born to do it, bobbing along to the music with a strained foot tapping to the beat.

“Holy shit, we are so fucking lucky,” Dave mumbled to himself, adjusting his shades as he watched Tavros get lost in his music. His mind was already thinking of dozens of beats that could work, his hands hitting against his knees in an attempt to mentally mimic the sounds stuck in his mind. Even with the roughest idea, he grinned, clapping his hands together, “So, fucking, lucky.”

-

Holy shit, Dave thought. That was a lot of sequins.

The two matching suits being presented to them reminded him of the disco balls they spent considerate amount of their lighting budget on, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best idea in the first place. But now, they were obsolete. He and Dirk would be walking disco balls. They could just set up the mannequins right then and there at the perfect angles to reflect light throughout the show. The only thing he found good about them was that they were thinner than their leather jackets. The sequins probably offered extra protection against the lights as well, with their crazy mad reflecting properties. If it kept him from dying, then he’d wear it.

Dirk, on the other hand, appreciated them much more. They were hand tailored, and sequined, which to the untrained eye might look like a simple task. Dirk had enough knowledge of sewing from his older brother to know that adding the sequins had to take a painstakingly long time. Kudos to them. The entire ensemble consisted of their new helmets, old metal plated gloves (now noticeably cleaner and shinier than the last time they had worn them), black slacks, button up shirt and a silk tie (which all looked expensive as fuck), as well as the suit jackets. The last touch, which Dirk found quite charming, were the medallions. One in gold and one in silver, their simple triangle shape made quite the accent piece laid flat against the silk of the neck tie.

“What do you think?” the younger Maryam asked, her hand going out to straighten the tie on Dave’s suit.

“I’m down,” Dave shrugged, looking at Dirk. “How about you?”

“I’m so down that I’ve been invited to Satan’s house party,” the other Strider smirked. “I’ll be sure to wear the suit there, too.”

-

The stage was huge.

Hell, the entire venue was pretty fucking big. But the stage…

They opted to take up one side and leave the rest open to the ravers and dancers. Dave and Dirk would be behind their turntables, which were elevated a couple feet higher than the actual stage. Cronus had suggested that they make the platform higher, but Karkat decided to completely ignore the suggestion for both the safety of the performers and just  to do it out of spite. The stadium’s managment claimed that the capacity was 18,200 bodies, but one could easily fit 20,000 with the way their stage was set up. The place had been called “the worlds most famous arena”, and the Striders could certainly tell why.

Dave, Dirk, and Karkat walked along the stage setup, taking in the heaviness of the situation. This gig was so important. Tickets were sold out. Karkat managed to remind them of this fact every few minutes.

“So, the turntables will be set here. There are lights rigged up almost everywhere, so expect the unexpected. Sollux has agreed to help run lighting, so let’s plan to rehearse that around 7 tonight…” Karkat rambled on. “...And Tavros should be there, too. He wouldn’t want to be up there in the dark about what the hell is going on around him.”

Dirk nodded, but he really wasn't paying attention to anything he was saying. Right now, the stage felt so...empty. It was lifeless. But when it was full of music, it would be so amazing.

He suddenly didn’t know why he wanted to leave in the first place.

Dave wouldn’t talk to him about the incident anymore. It was behind him. But there wasn’t a whole lot of closure. After this, would they keep going? Or just sit pretty on their piles of money and live simply until they aged gracefully and died? There was no saying what would happen to Daft Punk. But in this moment, Dirk really didn’t give a shit. Their music had improved so much, from their repetitive party tracks right down to the songs with deep meanings and lyrics. Dirk was proud. Of himself, of Dave, of Tavros…of everything they went through since they started this chaos.

“Dirk, are you going to start crying? I don’t think I can take it,” Dave stated dryly.

A slightly giddy smile appeared on the older one’s lips as he ruffled Dave’s hair, which the younger one squirmed away from in protest.

“Shut up, I’m relishing the moment.”

“And you thought you could live without Daft Punk.”

“I think I’m having a premonition...you know what I see? I see you going and fucking yourself. Go fuck yourself.”

“Laaaaame,” Dave laughed at the terrible comeback. Dirk joined him. “But really. You couldn’t give up Daft Punk if you tried.”

“Daft Punk is your band, not mine.”

“False. It’s actually a joint effort. If I was the only robot up there, nobody would come to this concert. You made this band what it is as much as I did. We’re a team, dude. It’s like your head’s in the game, but your heart’s in the song. Look, you made me make a High School Musical reference just now. Shit’s serious man.”

“Is this supposed to be convincing me?”

Dave stopped, grabbing Dirk by the shoulder. “Remember when I first made Da Funk? It sounded so shitty in the beginning, and then who was the asshole who improved it? It sure as hell wasn’t Bro. And without that improving, it wouldn’t have become the top hit on the radio in the next few days,” he paused, looking at his older brother. “Dirk, you taught me about 50 percent of what I know about mixing music. You are also half of this band. So, logically, you actually make up more of this band than I do.”

“If I say that I enjoy being in this band with you, will you shut up?”

“Gladly.”

They started to walk again, moving up the stage and behind the table that their equipment will be set on. Dirk sighed. “Okay, yeah. It’s pretty fucking great. The music that we make is a puzzle that I just don’t want to put down. It’s like solving a bunch of different rubik's cubes until they can be placed down next to each other and make a giant mural,” he touched the table fondly, as if the turntables were set on it. “When I left, I was still making music. I never planned on putting them out to the world, but I made them anyway. It felt good. It relieved stress. I could think and not think all at the same time. I couldn’t really give it up if I tried. So there. Now shut up, we need to start hauling our shit in here.”

Dave had a smug look on his face for the rest of the morning, which Dirk ignored to the best of his ability.

-

“Dave!” John grabbed his sleeve before he could disappear to the dressing room. The blonde turned around, his eyebrow arched.

“What is it this time, Egderp?”

“Don’t call me that,” was the immediate response. John shook his head getting back on subject. “Remember that message I gave you on your birthday?”

“...Maybe?”

“Well, hi.”

It was supposed to mean something, Dave knew it. He didn’t initially understand why John looked so bashful as he said it. And then the proverbial lightbulb lit up above his head. He went through his phone and scrolled all the way into his inbox, recovering the old message.

_Okay, so it’s 11:37 right now. I’ve got 23 minutes to type this out. So, here goes!_

_Dear Dave,_

_You are the greatest person I have ever met. That sounds super lame, I know, but it’s true! That being said, you are also a total dork. Only somebody like you could have me crash into you on heelys of all things and take it in stride._

_Eh? Stride, Strider? Get it?_

_Alright, 11:40. You’re the sweetest and funniest guy in my life. You manage to make me crack up when I need it the most. And when that doesn’t work, you are more than happy to just carry a conversation. I love that._

_The first time I heard your music, I didn’t even know it was yours. It was great stuff! Da Funk was one of my summer jams. When I met the man behind the helmet, I was surprised to see he was the stranger from Walmart._

_You were wearing the gloves you bought that day to the party. I don’t know what I was expecting._

_I didn’t remember writing down your contact information, but it made its way into my pocket anyway._

_Turntech Godhead...it was the weirdest handle I’d ever seen. But totally fit you._

_11:54. Crunching time, here._

_Dave Strider is the name of the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with. I have to go to college soon, but like hell am I going to forget to write to you every god damn day. And when I’m out, I’ll come and find you and we can figure out something together. If you’re up to it, that is. Maybe share an apartment? I dunno._

_When you read this, I’ll probably be standing right next to you. Do future me a favor and tell him how you feel, because hell knows that he’s an oblivious goof sometimes._

_11:59._

_You are amazing, talented, handsome, and wonderful in every way possible. You’re a clever thinker and a man full of heart. You are the cola to my pepsi and the time to my hammer. David Strider, I love you. Happy Birthday!_

_12:00!!!_

John just stood there with him, awaiting some sort of reaction. Dave was frozen, scanning through the words without any sort of outward reaction. It made John nervous. He was about to accept humiliation when Dave grabbed his face and pressed his lips against John’s.

“You are such a nerd, did you know that?” The blonde grinned when he pulled away.

“What, no ‘I love you too’? You hurt me, Dave. You cut me deep.”

“God damn, Egbert. It’s like that dramatic kiss meant nothing.”

“Eh, there was no fanfare.”

“Oh, really?” Dave arched an eyebrow. “You want fanfare?” He gripped John by the waist and dipped him. “I can do fanfare.”

“Hey, assholes. You can PDA after we perform in this huge ass concert, okay? Get dressed, Dave.”

John giggled at Dave’s face as Dirk griped his way past them. “I guess the fanfare will just have to happen later.”

Dave righted himself and John, letting go of the brunette’s waist and giving a small salute before following Dirk into the dressing room. “You got it, cap.”

-

Her fingers were painted an elegant black, meticulously shined, and with only a single stray mark amongst ten pristine nails. The first thing Rose noticed were those hands that so impeccably mirrored her own and how they slid so easily through short, ebony hair. She sipped daintily at her drink and ignored the imprint of her black lips as she shimmied her way through the pulsating crowd.

Rose knew all too well her lack of tact on a dancefloor filled with eye burning light shows and ear shattering music. If this was a campus cafe, or even one of the more quiet frat parties, she would feel more in her element. Alas, all she had at her disposal was the ability to “bust a move” and hope for the best.

“HELLO,” Rose introduced, her voice straining slightly over the loud music that thumped throughout her body. “I’M ROSE.”

She watched as the woman moved her lips in response, but the room was too deafening and lip reading was not Rose’s strong suit. “WHAT?”

With more exasperation in her body posture, the woman tried again. A crescendo of a song could not come at a worse time. Clucking her tongue in exasperation, Rose circled her hand around this attractive stranger’s wrist, pulling her closer. “One more time,” Rose repeated, speaking directly in her ear.

“Kanaya. My name is Kanaya,” she replied, the exasperation edging into something more positive, though Rose couldn’t place the exact emotion that played on Kanaya’s lips.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kanaya. Mind if we step out?” Rose could feel Kanaya shake her head “no,” her hair momentarily brushing against Rose’s cheek. “Good.”

They wrestled their way through the crowd, ducking under flailing arms and avoiding the stray attempt at a bump ‘n grind that would come their way. Rose also handed off her drink to an unwitting passersby, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared at the fruity drink. By the time they reached the nearest exit, Rose was sporting a minor beer mishap on her thankfully bare shoulder and Kanaya could feel the sticky smell of perspiration clinging to her skin.

“I don’t know about you, but I am relatively disgusted by the hygiene of these sort of gatherings. Sure, the ambiance of electric excitement is always contagious and the feeling of anonymity is nice, but ugh. The hygiene,” Rose muttered, wiping off her arm with the handkerchief Kanaya lent her. She pressed her back to a blessedly cool wall as she returned it. The vibrations of the music could be felt coursing up and down her spine as she tilted her head towards kanaya.

“So, are you a fan of Daft Punk?”

She chuckled at the question, a mona lisa quirk to her smile. “I’m here for a friend, I suppose.” Her voice was like the action of spreading frosting on a cake; the smooth motion of a knife sliding against a decadent dark chocolate. “How about you? With your attitude towards rave like establishments, I doubt Daft Punk is your preference.”

Rose scoffed, pointedly shooting an incredulous eye at the door they emerged from. “I’ve come due to a friend as well, I suppose.” They looked each other up and down for a moment, taking a critical eye. Kanaya wore red and she wore it well, the fabric hugging her curves like a boa constrictor. Rose wore a purple so dark it got often mistaken for black, the fabric pooling into layered tendrils that wafted around her knees.

“Favorite book?” Kanaya asked, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

“Grimoire of the Zoologically Dubious. You?”

“...Rainbow Drinker.”

“Pfft, seriously!?” Rose covered her smile with her hand sheepishly, a single eyebrow raised.

Kanaya pinched her nose, her frown one of comical regret. “I was hoping that would be a novel outside of your repertoire.”

“I’m afraid your hoping was for not naught, I’ve read the entire series.” Rose’s smile was playful as she leaned forward, her hand cupped around the side of her mouth like she was telling a secret. “My book could beat up your book.”

Kanaya placed her hand dramatically over her heart, her green lipstick clad lips forming a melodramatic “O”. “You take that back. I’ll have you know that rainbow drinkers are far superior to your zoologic blaspheme.”

“Au contraire,” Rose replied, her smirk resting lopsided on her face. “My Grimoire is obviously the better of the two.”

“I find that highly…” Kanaya took a step forward, her grin the slightest bit sinister.

“Don’t you dare,” Rose warned, pulling Kanaya the rest of the way towards her. Their lips were a breath apart, jesus was probably suffocating with the room they were leaving him.

“Dubious.” The two of them immediately burst into a fit of giggles, sliding to the floor and tangling together like they had known each other for years. They settled into a comfortable silence, the heavy beat of the bass still pulsing through the air around them.

“Hey do you want to-”

“If you’d be interested, I-”

Both girls blushed in unison, but neither shied away. Instead, Rose tipped her nose up just a touch more, and Kanaya adopted a small curled smirk.

“Get dinner, or maybe a drink sometime?” Rose finished asking, thankful that they were relatively ignored by everyone who passed by.

“Blood red wine?” Kanaya questioned teasingly, raising a delicately arched eyebrow.

Rose smirked and untangled herself, pulling Kanaya up with her. “It’s getting late, and there’s a starbucks down the street. Are you okay with coffee?”

“Coffee?” Kanaya scrunched her face up in confusion, head tilted to the side. “You’re going to be up all night. I will be as well, I suppose.”

Rose grinned, baring her teeth and wiggling her eyebrows. “I don’t mind staying up all night with you. In fact, I plan on it.”

-

“How did your brother get tickets to this?” Horuss yelled through the music, his hand clenching tightly at Rufioh’s jacket and lightly at Meulin’s hand, as not to lose her in the crowds, “These are really popular artists.”

“I think he knows the band!” Rufioh called back, watching as Meulin focused on the beat that was reverberating through the floor, her smile growing. Seeing as she was deaf, Rufioh had been worried that his friend wouldn’t accept the offer of an extra ticket. Yet somehow, Horuss knew she’d accept. She’d claimed that it was a ‘whole different concert for her!’ when he asked, grinning as she watched the two robots on stage move in almost perfect unison.

“What was that?” Horuss yelled, hearing the music fall away and the crowd roar.

“Tavros knows D-”

“It is at this time that Daft Punk is proud to introduce a new artist by the name of Tavros Nitram,” A robotic voice announced, the silver robot announcing it giving two thumbs up. The crowd cheering even though they had no idea who’d just been called out, and for a moment Rufioh was positive that he was hallucinating.

From Meulin’s point of view, she’d watched an adorable silver robot walk up and raise both of his hands, say something, and suddenly Rufioh looked like he was going to collapse, leaning heavily on his boyfriend.

“What happened?” She managed to yell out, watching her best friends lips closely as Horuss responded.

“Tavros is on stage.”

His movements weren’t clear, and she frowned.

“What?”

Horuss just put a large hand on top of her head and turned it manually, showing the sight of a boy wearing a black suit jacket, an easy smile, and standing on his own two feet.

Leaning close to Rufioh’s ear as his boyfriend continued to keep his jaw dropped in apparent shock, Horuss asked the question, “Did you know about this?”

“I-” Shaking his head, he gave a loud cheer, managing to at least alert Tavros to the fact that they were there. Even if his call should have been lost in the crowd Tavros perked up and looked around.

Next to him, Horuss and Meulin laughed, watching as Tavros stepped up to the microphone. His eyes were raking over the audience, and the moment he spotted his brother his smile grew largely, The music boomed on the speakers placed around the place, and the beat continued for nearly ten seconds, Tavros dropping his head a little bit as he loosened his shoulders. The moment the correct cord struck, he looked up and grabbed the microphone, his stutter all but gone as he opened his mouth and sang;

“Like the legend of the phoenix. . .”

-

“No admittance without a pass,” Nepeta said with an annoyed sigh, having to hold back another person trying to sneak into the concert. Two hours into the concert,  this point she had said that same sentence far too many times. Even with Equius right by her side and keeping people at bay, it was beginning to get old. There had been about twenty people who’d tried to pass off ticket stubs, even more trying to draw on the admittance stamp by copying the design off of their friend, and one actual case of someone just losing their ticket and demanding entry.

When Nepeta had been called up a month ago and asked to work for Dave and Dirk one more time, she’d accepted immediately. The guy on the phone cussed a lot, and was a bit on the loud side, but Nepeta could tell that he was good at heart. So, on that note, she assured that she could direct the security team that he’d put in place, and was also informed that she’d have police officers and the usual security team at Madison Square Garden under her thumb.

Meaning everyone asked her what to do with rogue concert goers, and needed to be directed in every aspect.

“Please!” someone begged from a few doors down, causing Nepeta to raise an eyebrow and look away from the two teenage girls who were begging her to let them pass. Usually people were at least subtle about trying to bribe the security to sneak in, but the man who was talking to another guard was hiding absolutely nothing. Leaning away from her door and looking down the hallway, she actually looked surprised, “You don’t understand! Please, I know them personally, I- Crackers and flipping cheese, I’ve been on a ruddy plane, I need to see him, I need to see Di-Stri! I’m their manager, for kringlefucking Christ’s sake!”

“Sir-” The uniformed man, Officer Johnson if Nepeta remembered correctly, began to sooth, “I’m sorry, but-”

“Jake!” She called out, watching as Jake’s head snapped up to look at her. He looked tanner than the last time she saw him, and he’d toned up a bit, and yet somehow he still managed to get the look of complete and utter joy just like usual.

“Nepeta, thank goodness!”

“You know him?” Johnson asked, and Nepeta motioned for him to take her spot with a jerk of her thumb. He didn’t say anything more, but nodded, leaving his post open just for a second before Nepeta jogged over to fill it.

“Jake!” She said again, grinned as she pushed up onto the balls of her feet to give the boy a hug. He reciprocated and actually let out a relieved sigh, squeezing her tightly.

“You are a life saver, bless your soul,” He chuckled, patting her back once before letting go.

“I thought you quit the band,” She admitted, brow furrowing a bit as she dropped back to her feet flatly.

“I went to Egypt,” He explained shortly, “And as wonderful as it would be to catch up, I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“Right!” She said immediately, glancing around. She couldn’t see him, but pulling in a deep breath Nepta rang out a loud, “Equius!”

Jake looked around and didn’t see the man either, but not before looking at Nepeta as if she’d lost her mind. Within ten seconds, there were loud footfalls before the man approached the two of them, nodding at Jake in greeting before asking, “What is it?”

“We have a job to do,” She said with a grin, taking the key ring containing the stadium door keys out of her pocket before going to opening the door, “Something tells me that Jake’s not going to get through without a liiiittle help.”

-

"We're up all night to get lucky."

When Jake pushed through the double doors that had been blocked off by his favorite pair of bodyguards, he thought that he may be able to get through the crowds easily. That's how it usually happened, right? Storm the concert, reach the boy, kiss him breathless and ride off into the sunset?

Apparently not, because the moment he stepped through the doors and away from safety he may as well have kissed the thought of seeing Dirk within the next year goodbye.

People were pressed shoulder to shoulder, sweating and holding their hands up to the music as the young man, (Tavros, was it?), on stage continued to sing with a winning smile. Jake was happy for him and all, that having been the lad in the accident all those months prior, but by god did his song pack a punch. People were seemingly ecstatic about the song, and Jake was desperate for them to hate it so he could just move the slightest bit.

Jake was swallowed by the crowd with a strangled yell of, "Nepeta!". Of all people, she would be able to help him, right? And if she had heard, she’d bring the goliath that was Equius. All he could do was pray that his friend had heard him and could stop him from meeting a premature demise in the middle of a horde of fans. Dodging beer spilling on him, blocking an elbow that flew at his eye, and getting his feet stepped on more than once, Jake felt as he were drowning amongst a sea of young adults. Two girls winked at him, as did one boy, but otherwise he was ignored as he tried to scramble out of the crowd, unknowingly pushing himself further in while he was disoriented.

"Jake?" A familiar voice called out as clear as a flute, and Jake could only raise his hand as high as possible, the man on stage giving a grin as Turntech and Di-Stri began singing in unison and causing the people in the crowd only to move more with a cheer.

People parted as Equius began to trudge through to where the man was. While intimidating looking already, Equius acted like a shark swimming through a school of fish; People moved out of his way without ever needing a hint to do so. “Are you okay?” Nepeta asked immediately, brushing Jake’s shoulders off when he finally found himself with more than an inch to move in any direction.

“Fantastic,” He tried to assure with a nod, glancing at the stage and only catching little glimpses with a sigh.

“Well then come on! I’m not having the most purrfect couple in history get split up for a second longer!” She grinned, looping her arm with Jake’s and pulling him along.

Much to Jake's chagrin he realized that he was actually receiving an escort to a closer location, Nepeta at his side and Equius leading the way. He wasn't planning on charging the stage or anything, but seeing Dirk at that moment was more important than he could possibly explain. He hadn't seen Dirk for nearly nine months, and it was an actual hell. Even to see that familiar helmet, in concert where it belonged, would be enough. But both he and Dave were too far back on the stage for Jake to even see, and moving through the crowd on his own accord just wasn't happening.

So, with a little help from his friends, Jake managed to look sheepish while looking down, Nepeta smiling and patting his back as Equius cut through the mass like a hot knife through soft butter.

And then it happened.

He was still a ways away from the stage, but.

Even seeing a large silver helmet bob to the beat of the music made Jake stop in his tracks.

He was almost sure he was going to cry.

A memory of a robot walking into a small club in Houston played in his head, the feeling of terror and exhilaration playing again in Jake's chest just like it had all that time ago. Only this robot wasn't bound in leather, but in a rather nice suit that appeared to be covered in sequins. It should have been tacky, but somehow with the helmets it just. . . worked.

_"I need to find a man named English."_

_"English? I. Me. I'm English."_

_"Di-Stri, reporting for duty."_

_"You're Di-Stri?"_

_"Should I go by Jay Z?"_

Smiling at the memory of their first conversation, Jake felt his hands shake a little as his eyes welled up a touch. He was actually there. Dirk was within a hundred foot radius.

_"I just mean. . . You sound a lot more. . . Electronic than you did over the phone."_

_"Maybe because I wasn't wearing the helmet."_

_"Well it's good to meet you then, Di-Stri. I'm Jake English.”_

Fast forward a few months, past Jake nearly shooting his beloved in the face, and the words ran in his ears clearly.

_"Well that's a hell of a way to get introduced. And from this point on, unless the helmet is on, Dirk will do just fine."_

_“Dirk?”_

_“Dirk Strider.”_

“Dirk," Jake said softly, looking at him with large eyes and his heart bleeding onto his sleeve.

He’d never felt so lovestruck in his life.

And somehow, it was as if Dirk heard him. The crowd around the circle that Equius had carved out exploded with energy, cheering loudly as the song came to an end. And when both Turntech and Di-Stri’'s heads lifted, Di-Stri's helmet turned until he was looking directly at Jake.

He was standing there in his own little break in the crowd, orange, green, pink and cyan lights high lighting him and giving dirk the illusion that Jake was the only thing in the world that deserved his attention at that moment.

Jake actually gave a small sob when he saw Dirk's screen flash with a '!<3!', instead of the cheesy heart that he’d installed on Dave’s helmet. This one was so oddly fitting that he had to wipe at his eyes under his glasses just to see properly as Di-Stri seemed to freeze on stage, the performer at an apparent loss of what to do.

And then absolute surprise hit him like a train when two leather and metal clad hands lifted up, grabbing the sides of Di-Stri's helmet and lifting upwards. Turntech began flashing between exclamation points and a large x, obviously voicing his disdain with Di-Stri revealing himself.

That was, until he began looking around at what could be causing Dirk to do this and his screen faced Jake.

And after a second, a green checkpoint flashed as a silver helmet was shoved into the gold robots hands.

The crowd let out a collective gasp, along with hollering, cheering, and clapping as the artist simply ran. A blonde haired, squinting, stumbling man in a sequin suit with an arm held up to block the lights just enough so he could see damn near dove into the crowd, a few people reaching out to touch him but most getting out of his way as he sprinted forward. "Jake!"

Nepeta actually had to push Jake’s shoulders to hit him out of his own bubble, but the moment that she did Jake began to weave through the crowd around him.

_“And from this point on, unless the helmet is on, Dirk will do just fine..."_

“Dirk!”

Dirk stumbled, Jake had to shove past three people, cameras flashed and yet both of them remained oblivious to the rest of the world.

When the two of them collided, hands gripped as if the other was about to float away. The flashing around them from cameras increased by ten fold as Dirk buried his face in Jake's shoulder, and Jake copied the action while his hands wound around Dirk’s neck, pulling him flush. The entirety of it was nearly a death grip, Jake giving a few stray sobs as Dirk tried and failed to hold himself together a bit better.

“Cronus is gonna be so livid at you for taking off your helmet,” Jake giggled with a shaky snivel, squeezing Dirk tightly. Equius and Nepeta honed in a bit, their backs towards Jake and Dirk and facing forward to ward off fans, and yet still neither of the men cared.

“He’ll live,” Dirk scoffed, but it was evident that his nose was stuffy and his eyes were far from dry. His hug around Jake tightened as he tried to get impossibly closer, his words loud but muffled in the sound of the venue, “What are you doing here?”

“I-” Shaking his head a little, Jake now suddenly felt ridiculous. Dirk had just dived off stage for him, and he’d had the audacity to feel as if he were losing his significant other? “I thought I was losing you. There was silence for over a ruddy week, not to mention you got a new manager, and I was the one who left and I felt like I wasn’t talking to you enough, and-”

Dirk actually laughed, pulling back far enough so he could cup Jake’s face and look him in the eye. Jake looked almost fearful, and yet Dirk could not have looked more relieved as he spoke loud enough for Jake to hear him. “Dude, you are so god damned paranoid.”

Upon hearing this, Jake gave a watery smile, letting his forehead collapse against Dirk’s as he closed his eyes. Dirk closed his eyes too, thankful for being able to shut out the lights as he relaxed a little. People were hollering his name, either Di-Stri or Dirk, as they’d just heard, and asking for signatures. Some were trying to get closer but were held back by Equius and Nepeta.

No one understood the importance of the kiss that Dirk administered less than half a second later, and no one else at that moment mattered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect an epilogue in the future  
> I am writing it rn  
> woohoo  
> This chapter is hella long, and was a collabortation of us here at HammerTimexx and Lemon Lin, who also made the art shown in this chapter!  
> Questions? Comments? Concerns? Message me at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com or Hammer at burnieplease.tumblr.com! For more awesome art by Lemon, go checkout officialtrojancondom.tumblr.com. ^u^


	40. Epilogue - Technologic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hammer cried when I showed this to her   
> So here it is  
> The epilogue  
> <3  
> -Time

“And the award for album of the year goes to…” the woman whom Dave honest to god couldn’t remember the name of began, taking her damn time to open the envelope. “...Random Access Memories, Daft Punk!”

As cheesy as he thought it sounded, the world began to move in slow motion for Dave. They were all standing up, everybody was applauding. Dirk moved to hug Tuna, and then turned around to face his brother. If their helmets had their light systems going right now, he was sure a bit green check mark would be flashing. They hugged briefly, like they had before with the other awards they received that night, but this time the embrace was tighter. What a baby Dirk was. It wasn’t like Dave was on the verge of tears as if all of his dreams had come true in one night.

Nah, that definitely wasn’t the case. His eyes were just sweaty from the damn helmet, that’s what happened.

Their party (consisting of the Strider Brothers, Tavros' ecstatic face that in Dave's opinion could cure cancer at this point, Tuna, and Cronus) made their way up to the stage. Their competitors actually didn’t look all that miffed at their loss, which was a plus. Either that, or Dave really couldn’t see a fucking thing in his helmet. As the award was handed to Dirk, he raised it in the air, earning many loud cheers from their audience. Then, as Cronus started to speak, Dirk handed the award to Dave, who in turn gave it to their producer. Cronus grinned at them before continuing on with his speech.

Neither Dave nor Dirk could really say they remembered what Cronus said up there, but they were sure it was awesome.

**TT: We did it, man. We won.**

Dirk had done some tinkering and added a pesterchum feature on the inside  of their helmets so that they wouldn’t have to unplug themselves from their equipment to communicate during shows. Dave couldn’t help but give a genuine smile.

**TG: and it was all because of me <3**

He could see the quick rise and fall of his brother’s shoulders that indicated he was laughing.

**TT: Sure was, little bro.**

They shared a little moment right then as Cronus finished his speech and applause rang out. The two of them hugged again, eliciting even more applause before they returned to their seats. Dave was the first to break their silence.

**TG: Now how much longer until we can ditch the white getup**

**TT: We still have an afterparty to perform in. Unless you want to undress and then sit around for two minutes before we have to be back in them, I’d suggest keeping it on.**

**TG: uggghhh**

-

“Blistering dickens, how am I supposed to see?”

“Settle down, you haven’t even put it on yet.” Dirk straightened Jake’s bowtie, using the action as an excuse to get closer to the brunette. Jake found it all very flustering. Dirk knew that he did. The green eyed one used this as a perfect time to eye his helmet warily another time. The smooth headgear seemingly lacked in the sight department, which made Jake nervous to try it on. “Go on, try it. I won’t let you bump into anything, I promise.”

He’s uncertain at first, but when he finally moves it over his head and lets Dirk turn it on, he understands what the other man was saying. There’s a screen on the inside. He was unsure of where the camera feed came from, but it was good enough for him.

“The camera is in your bowtie, for now,” Dirk elaborated. Perfect timing. “I might toy with it on a later date, but it’ll work for tonight.”

Jake laughs, the sound accompanied by a tinny undertone. “So, how do I look?”

Dirk grinned. If he could pull the man close, he would. But the helmet was in the way. “You look dashing, Doc.”

-

“Do you think he’ll be able to do it?”

“Hell yeah. Squarewave is a trooper. If he breaks down, we’ll cover him.”

“I dunno, I think Sawtooth would be a better option. You sampled him in Brainwasher, right? Let’s just put that one in where Squarewave would be. Save him some battery and upgrade him a bit before setting him out on the public.”

Dirk rolled his eyes. “He may not be as advanced as Sawtooth, but Squarewave can definitely take it. Besides. The song he does is one of our most popular tracks. If we don’t perform it, we’ll disappoint millions.”

Dave sighed. “Fine. But if he breaks, it’s on your head bro.”

Dirk just smirked at him.

-

“And here we are in the lovely Los Angeles area, with none other than the ever eclectic Daft Punk. They’ve got a few selections in store for you, both from their past and present. So sit back and relax, or go ahead and dance a while. You’ll find that the refreshments are on the west side of the room,” the green and white clad figure chuckled, steepling his fingers from his stance inside a decorative sound booth set. “I am an excellent host, after all…”

In front of his booth was the band in question. In a dramatic change of lighting, the two were engulfed in uv lights, making their white suits even brighter. They stood still, only moving to adjust the sound effects that emitted from the speakers. They started a steady bass beat, similar to the one they used in Robot Rock. After a few measures, they added samples from Digital Love and Something About Us. The tunes mingled in the air, creating their own odd harmonies and dissension. The volume and samples of Daft Punk’s past began to increase, and Dirk unplugged himself from the soundboard and walked over to a short, dormant robot. He switched the android on and returned to his place, plugging in just in time to cut all of the sounds that were being made short.

“Doc Scratch, out. Daft Punk, in.”

_“Buy it, use it, break it, fix it, trash it, change it, mail - upgrade it.”_

The applause was already deafening by this point. Squarewave continued without a pause.

_“Charge it, point it, zoom it, press it, snap it, work it, quick - erase it. Write it, cut it, paste it, save it, load it, check it, quick - rewrite it. Plug it, play it, burn it, rip it, drag and drop it, zip - unzip it. Lock it, fill it, call it, find it, view it, code it, jam - unlock it._ _Surf it, scroll it, pause it, click it, cross it, crack it, switch - update it._ _Name it, rate it, tune it, print it, scan it, send it, fax - rename it._ _Touch it, bring it, pay it, watch it, turn it, leave it, start - format it.”_

The crowd chanted with the robot as the song progressed. Dirk grinned despite himself. You go, little buddy. You’re doing it.

They started up the drum beat as the robot repeated the verse, the bass reverberating through their shoes. Jake tapped his foot, his arms crossed. He was playing up the sauve party host facade to a ‘T’. If their headgear would’ve allowed it, Dirk would’ve kissed the shit out of him.

**TG: focus on the music and snog him later jackass**

Dirk snorted, turning the drum beat on just in time for Squarewave to say the phrase that played on the radio for weeks on end.

_“Technologic. Technologic. Technologic. Technologic.”_

They played through the song like they had countless times before. Backup vocals were added, the drum beat returned, and the bass was turned up. It may have sounded too hectic to most, but Dirk found the sounds calming. They reminded him of the many days he spent holed up in a room with Dave writing music. They reminded him of his work on Human After All. But mainly, it just felt like home.

Dave had similar sentiments. He never expected to have a career in music, but now he couldn’t think of anything else to do. His brother was a dramatic asshole, yeah, but he was one too. They had gone through a lot of shit together, but they still managed to make kickass music.

**TT: You thinking about John?**

**TT: Your heart is flashing again.**

And so it was. Dave laughed. The first time in two months that the heart shows up again, and it’s not for John. That’s the moment that Dave knew he was set for life.

_“Technologic. Technologic. Technologic. Technologic.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Questions? Concerns? Contact me at cyan-shenanigans.tumblr.com or Hammer at burnieplease.tumblr.com. Or message us here in the comments. That's totally cool too. 
> 
> Stay tuned with us, we've got another fic coming up! 
> 
> I know we say this a lot, but thank you guys so much for sticking with us to the very end. Your feedback is what kept this fic off of life support. Hammer and I struggle with all sorts of things offline, and seeing your comments and positive feedback gives us so much motivation. So thanks. Thank you thank you thank you! <333
> 
> Until next time,   
> Time (and Hammer).


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